The life and times of Niccolò Machiavelli

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LIFE AND TIMES

NIC COLO MACHIAVELLI.

d^V

I

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

Wit JLitt and %imti of

(S^iirolamo ^abonavola*

! TRANSLATED BY LINDA VILLARI.

' Portraits and Illustrations. Two vols.

Third Edition, with New Preface.

Demy %vo^ Cloth^ 2IJ.

** We welcome the translation of this excellent work—
which is all a translation ought to be." — Spectator.

London : T. FISHER UNWIX.

Ihom ti hu.*t ui tht' pthf^eatftofi ifi ftwtt/ Ht^ftiami/lti*

C{)e Etft anil Ctmea

iBtitfolo jWatl)ia\3eUt

PKOFFSbOK i^^SyUALE VILLARI

Author of ** ^he Lift and "Ttma of Savonarola^*' &c.

TRANSLATI£0 BY

MADAMF LINDA VILLARI

J NEW EDITION
(augmented by the author, revised by the translator)

ILLUSTRATED

VOLUME I

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PATERNOSTER SQLLARE

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PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.

HIS is the first complete English version of
my book on "MachtavelH and his Times/*
the original translation, in four volumes,
produced between the years 1878-83, having
been considerably shortened to suit the
convenience of its publisher. Whereas the
two first volumes were issued intact with all the documents
appertaining to them, the rest of the work was deprived of
two entire chapters, and every document suppressed. One
of the eliminated chapters treated of Art, and it was precisely
in the Fine Arts that the Renaissance found its fullest and
most distinctive expression, Niccoli) Machiavelli, it is true,
had no personal concern with the Arts, but they are so
essential a feature of the national development of his period,
and so closely connected with our literature, that it is
impossible to understand either theme without considering
the artistic life of the age. The second chapter omitted was
of greater length, and even greater importance, being a careful
account of all that has been written and thought regarding
Machiavelli by critics of all countries at different times. It
was therefore a necessary aid towards the due comprehension
and appreciation of the man and his works. The political
doctrines of the Florentine Secretary are not altogether
individual creations of his own. To no small extent they

vi

PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.

were the product of his times, and exercised a noteworthy
influence on the events of subsequent ages* It was requisite,
therefore, to examine the nature of this constant, yet ever-
varying influence on the deeds and thoughts of those who
have pronounced very contradictory verdicts on MachiavelU.
Without such examination, the reader's mind would be in-
evitably perplexed by the crowd of conflicting opinions.

Hence, all will understand how gladly I accepted Mr.
Fisher Un win's proposal of bringing out a complete transla-
tion of my book, accompanied by all the more important
documents, and particularly by some newly discovered
private correspondence, and other incdited letters, written
by Machiavelli when Secretary to the Republic. The whole
translation has been again revised and collated with the
original text, while, on my part, I have been enabled to insert
a few corrections in historical details.

Strictly speaking, this is all that need be said. Neverthe-^
less, i venture to add a tf^w brief remarks.

So many books on the Renaissance have appeared of
late, that it is only natural to regard the public as almost
wearied of the theme, and on the point of refusing attention
to anything connected with it Therefore, I believe it may
be useful to indicate what arc the points of permanent
value — not, assuredly, of my own work, but of its subject*
I have shown elsewhere that I was impelled to study the
Renaissance not only because we find in that period the
primary source of many national qualities and defects, but
because we may likewise discover therein the cause of
many erroneous judgments passed on us by foreigners.
Accordingly, the study of the Renaissance appeared to me
to offer the best means of teaching us Italians to know
ourselves, correct our faults, and tread the path of progress.

The Renaissance, however, was not isolated to Italy ; it
was also a period of much importance in the history of the
rest of Europe. It was then that, by the revival of classic
learning, reason was emancipated, and the modern individual
first born and moulded into shape ; hence investigation into
the circumstances of the modern man's birth teaches us how

PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION,

vit

I

to comprehend his character. If this may be said of man-
kind and civih'zation in general, it may be still more stoutly
asserted with regard to the conception and character of
politics. The Middle Ages had no idea of the modern
State, of which the Renaissance laid the first stone ; no
idea of Uie science of politics. Theoretically, the Middle
Ages admitted no difference between the conduct of in*
dividual and of public life^ between private and political
morality, although, practically, the difference was then more
marked than at any other time. In those days men often
wrote like anchorites, while fighting tooth and nail like
savages. The Renaissance, on the contrary, recognized, and
even exaggerated, this diflTerence ; Machiavelli tried to for-
mulate it scientifically, and^ by force of his new method
founded political science. But, absorbed in pondering the
divergences between public and private action, he pushed
on relentlessly to extreme conclusions, without pausing to
observe whether some link of connection might not be
hidden beneath such divergence ; whether both public and
private conduct might not proceed from a common and
more elevated principle. It was this that gave birth to the
innumerable disputes, which, even at this day, have not yet
come to an end. Nor is it easy for them to come to an end,
when we remember, while admitting, in real life, that public
morality truly differs from private, that on the other hand,
we are sufficiently ingenuous — not to say hypocritical — to
maintain that the essential characteristic of modern politics
consists in conducting public business with the same good
faith and delicacy which w^c are bound to observe in private
affairs. This, as every one knows, is always the theory, not
always the practice. Yet, unless voluntarily inconsistent, we
are forced by this thcor>' to judge Machiavelli with increasing
severity, and his memory^ therefore, is still held accursed.
Often, too, w^e find him most cruelly condemned in the
words of those whose deeds are most accordant wnth his
views. As the matter now rests, the Machiavelli question is
reduced, for many minds, to the single inquiry whether he
was an honest or a dishonest man.

viii PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION,

Hence, it was, first of all, necessary to separate the verdict
to be passed on the man, accordingly as he should be proved
honest or dishonest, from that to be pronounced on his
doctrines ; since of these it is requisite instead to ascertain
the truth or the falsity, and to what extent they are true or
false. This question, as I have endeavoured to prove, has a
practical, as well as a scientific value at the present day. If
in real life we recognize a difference between public and
private morality, then — since no one doubts the duty of always
being honest — it becomes necessary to define the limits of
this difference and investigate the true principles of political
integrity. If, on the contrary, we deny this difference —
which really exists — it follows that, in practice, everything
must be left to chance. And this would be a triumph for
those politicians who, while feigning the highest and most
immaculate virtue, succeed in perpetrating actions equally
condemned by every rule of public and private morality. The
consequences of all this were far less noticeable in the past,
when all States, not excepting Republics, were governed by
a limited political aristocracy. Tradition and education then
served as substitutes for principles. But in modern society,
where all men may rise to power from one moment to
another, the more tradition and education are lacking, the
more urgent the need for principles. Hence, the best way
to reach a final solution, is to study the problem from its
birth, tracing its course, and noting what modifications it
underwent both in theory and practice. At any rate, it is
impossible to form an accurate judgment of Machiavelli
without first arriving at a sufficiently clear conception of
this problem.

Also, in examining a question of this kind, we are driven
to investigate many others dating from the same period, and
equally agitating to the modern conscience. It was during
the Renaissance that unlimited faith in the omnipotence of
reason first arose and led to the belief that society, human
nature, history, and the mystery of life, could be success-
fully explained without the slightest reference to religion,
tradition, or conscience. Endeavours were made, in fact, to

PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION. ix

explain all those problems, while taking for granted that
neither the eternal, the supernatural, nor the divine, need
be even hypothetically admitted. Then, for the first
time, was asserted the vain pretence that it was possible
for us to construct and destroy human society at our ^
own pleasure : the very theory afterwards put to so
fatal a test by the French Revolution, and of which a no
less fatal experience is offered to ourselves, by those who
still maintain that new states of society may be founded with
the same ease with which new systems of philosophy are
invented. And as all these ideas simultaneously flashed on
the human mind, after the close of the Middle Ages, men
rushed at once to the logical consequences deduced from
them, and with the greater serenity, because incapable of
foreseeing eventual results. By examining these doctrines
in the age of their birth we are better enabled to judge them,
since, besides witnessing their logical consequences, we also
perceive what direct or indirect influences they speedily brought
to bear upon practical life. For we see the spectacle of a great
people who founded the grand institutions of the Universal
Church and the Free Communes, struggled victoriously
against the Empire, created Christian Art, poetry, the Divina
ContfPiedia — and then note how that same people, changing
its course, emancipated human reason, initiated a new science,
a new literature, modern civilization, yet simultaneously
destroyed its political institutions and its liberty, corrupted
the Church, fell to the lowest depths of immorality, and
became a prey to foreign conquest.

For all these reasons the biography of Niccolo Machiavelli
cannot be restricted to the treatment of his individual work.
It must necessarily investigate the rise and development of a
new doctrine, manifesting in no small degree the spirit of an
age, and personified in a man. This it is that constitutes <,
Machiavelli's historical importance. Hence, a complete com-
prehension of the man is only to be obtained by clearly
distinguishing that which was the product of his times from
his personal achievement, even as it is necessary to dis-
tinguish between his individual character and the worth

VOL. I. la

X PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.

of his doctrines. We shall then more plainly discern the
reason of certain contradictions to be found in Machiavelli.
The deductions of the thinker are sometimes in tragical
conflict with the forecasts and aspirations of the patriot,
and an impartial study of this conflict will throw a
new light on the man, his age, and his doctrines. Only
thus, it seems to me, is it possible to arrive at the truth,
and estimate Machiavelli with the strict justice that is the
chief purpose of history. To what extent I have succeeded
or failed in this, my readers must decide.

Pasquale Villari.

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

%

offering to the public a fresh biography of
NicGol5 Machiavelii^ I tee! that it is needful to
state ray reasons for adding another to the
many work.^ upon the same subject already
before the world.

Throughout a long series of years the
Florentine Secretary was regarded as a species
Afl Sphinx^ of whom none could solve the enigma* By some he
was depicted as a monster of perfidy ; hy others as one of the
noblest and purest of patriots. Some looked upon his writings as
iniquitous precepts for the safe maintenance of tyranny ; others,
on the contrary, maintained that the ** Principe'* was a sanguinary
satire upon despots, intended to sharpen daggers against them,
and incite peoples to rebellion. While one writer exalted the
literary and scientific merits of his works, another would pronounce
them a mass of erroneous and perilous doctrines^ only fitted for
the ruin and corruption of any society fooh'sh enough to adopt
them. And thus the very name of Mi>chiavelli became, in popular
parlance, a term of opprobrium.

In course of time, and through the development of criticism,
not a few of these exaggerations ha%^e disappeared, but it would
be a great mistake to suppose that any unanimity of opinion has
as yet been obtained on the points of highest importance. Many
of my readers may remember the indignant outcry raised, es-
pecially in France, against the Provisional Government of Tuscany,

xii PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION,

when it initiated the revolution of 1859, by decreeing a new and
complete e^tion of Machiavelli's works. To the insults then
hurled against Italians in general, and the Florentine Secretary in
particular, others retorted by lauding his political genius and
purity of mind. Only a few years have elapsed since the ap-
pearance of a new " History of the Florentine Republic," written
by one whose name is cherished and venerated throughout Italy.
This work contains a very eloquent parallel, full of just and
ingenious observations, between Guicciardini and Machiavelli.
And the comparison concludes, not only to the advantage of the
former writer, but also with the assertion that the latter was
" malignant at heart, malignant of mind, his soul corrupted by
despair of good." *

Nor was this a hasty judgment ; on the contrary, it was the
fruit of careful study, of long meditation, and pronounced by
one whose word had no slight weight in Italy. The two Tuscan
scholars who, in 1873, commenced the publication of the newest
edition of Machiavelli*s works, frequently allude to the close
and cordial friendship they suppose him to have felt for
Cassar Borgia, even at the moment when the latter's hands
were stained by the most atrocious crimes ; and they even
publish some inedited documents, the better to confirm their
assertion.

On the other hand, more recent biographers, although not
always agreeing upon other points, exalt the patriotism no less
than the genius of Machiavelli, while some of them, after careful
study of his works and of inedited documents, even praise his
generosity, nobility, and exquisite delicacy of mind, and go so far
as to declare him an incomparable model of public and private
virtue. It seems to me that this is a proof that we are still far
removed from harmony, and that new researches and fresh studies
may not be altogether superfluous.

There were various reasons for this great and continual dissen-
sion. The times in which Machiavelli lived are full of difficulties
and contradictions for the historian, and these are embodied and
multiplied in the person of the Secretary, after a fashion to really
makes him sometimes appear to be a sphinx. It is naturally per-
plexing to behold the same man who, in some pages, sounds the
praises of liberty and virtue in words of unapproachable eloquence,

* Gino Capponi, "Storia delle Repubblica di Firenze," vol. ii. p. 368, Florence,
Barbara (2 vols. 8vo), 1875.

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION, 3dii

teaching elsewhere principles of treachery and deceit, how best
to oppress a people and secure the impunity of tyrants. Nor are
these doubts dissipated by first seeing him faithfully serving his
Republic for fifteen years, then sustaining misery and persecution
for his love of liberty, and afterwards begging to be employed in
the service of the Medici, were it but " to turn a stoned Yet the
contradictions of history and of human nature are manifold, and
in the present case would have been much more easily explained,
were it not that most writers have sought to be either accusers or
defenders of Machiavelli, judges — too seldom impartial — of his
morality and of his patriotism, rather than genuine biographers.
To many — particularly in Italy — it appeared sufficient to have
proved that he loved liberty, and his country^s unity and inde-
pendence, in order to be lenient upon all other points ; therefore
they praise both his doctrines and his morals, even previously
submitting them to a diligent critical examination, almost as
though patriotism were a sure evidence of political and literary
capacity, and necessarily exempt from vice and crime in private
life.

This inevitably called forth opposite opinions, for which the
contradictions noted above furnished abundant food. So that
little by little the whole question seemed limited to an endeavour
to ascertain whether the " Principe ^^ and the *'Discorsi" had been
written by an honest or a dishonest man, by a republican or by
a courtier, whereas what it really concerned us to know was the
measure of scientific value of the doctrines contained in them ;
whether they were true or false, did or did not comprise novel
truths, did or did not serve for the advancement of science ? None
can deny that if those doctrines were false, no virtue of the writer
could make them true ; if true, no vices of his could make them
false.

Undoubtedly there has been no lack of influential writers who
have undertaken an impartial and rational examination of Machia-
velli's works, but these have almost always given us critical essays
and dissertations rather than real and complete biographies.
Absorbed in a philosophical examination of his theories, they
either gave too little attention to the times and character of the
author, or spoke of them as though every dispute might be
settled by stating that Machiavelli represented the character of
his age and faithfully depicted it in his own writings. But in a
century there is space for many men, many ideas, many different

xiv PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

vices and different virtues, nor do the times alone suffice to render
clear to us all that is the work, the personal creation of genius.
Nevertheless, it is, of course, necessary to study them in order to
form a complete judgment of the doctrines of a writer who — as in
Machiavelli^s case — derives so much from them and yet puts so
much of himself in his works. This is not, however, the place
for entering upon an examination of biographers and critics, of
whom it will be my duty to speak farther on, in making use of
their writings and giving frequent quotations from them. My
present object is simply to announce that I have no intention of
being either the apologist or the accuser of the Florentine
Secretary. I have studied his life, his times, and his writings, in
order to know and describe him as he really was, with all his
merits and demerits, his vices and his virtues.

This may probably appear to be a needless presumption, after
the attempts already made by vVriters of greater authority than
myself. But thanks to historical materials of recent accumulation,
and others which, though still unexplored, are now easily accessible,
we have increased facilities for solving many of those doubts which
previously seemed to present insurmountable difficulties. It is
certain that publications such as the ten volumes of Guicciardini's
inedited works, ^ the diplomatic correspondence of almost every
province of Italy, an infinite number of other documents, not to
mention the original works of Italian and foreign writers, have
dissipated many obscurities and contradictions both in the literary
and political history of the Italian Renaissance. Also the rapid
progress of social science in our own days, naturally makes it
much easier to determine the intrinsic value and historic necessity
of that which many have called Machiavellism. And for all that
relates to the Secretary personally, there are the papers which
passed at his death into the hands of the Ricci family, then to the
Palatine Library in Florence — where for a long time they were very
jealously kept — and now, in the National Library, are accessible to
all, and even partly published. In the five volumes already
issued by Signori Passerini and Milanesi of their new edition
of Machiavelli^s works, many useful documents selected from
Florentine archives and libraries are comprised. Nevertheless a
very considerable mass of highly important papers still remained
unexplored. For instance, to my certain knowledge, there are
several thousands of Machiavelli^s official letters still inedited, and
* Guicciardini, ** Opere Inedite."

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION,

XV

^

¥

¥

—as far as I know — never before examined by any biographer.
This being the case, it seemed to me that there would be no undue
presumption in venturing upon another trial.

Were all biographies necessarily planned upon the same model,
then indeed I might be exposed to severe blame. But I have
thought it right to choose the form best adapted to the nature of
the subject* So little is known of Machiavelli during the years
in which he completed his studies and his character was in course
of formation, that I have tried, in part at least, to fill the great
gap, by a somewhat prolonged study of the times. I have en-
deavoured to examine the gradual rise in that century of what
may be called the Machiavellian spirit, before he himself appeared
upon the scene to give it the original imprint of his political
genius, and to formulate it scientifically. Then, after having to a
certain extent studied Machiavellism before Machiavelli, I drew
near to him as soon as he became visible in history, seeking to
learn his passions and his thoughts, as far as possible^ from his
own writings, and those of his most intimate friends and contem-
poraries. For without neglecting the examination of modern
authors, I have always preferred to depend upon the authority of
those closer to the events which I had to relate.

And this too has contributed in no slight degree to give a
special form to this biography. Among the documents of most
importance for the comprehension of Machiavelli's political life,
the "Legations'' must certainly be included, since these contain
not only the faithful history of all his embassies^ but likewise the
earhest germs of his political doctrines. But although their value
with this had been already noted — among othersbyGervinus — these
** Legations'' had never been much read, partly because they are^
of necessity^ full of repetitions, and partly because, in order to be
generally liked and understood, they would require a running
commentary upon the events to which they allude. Therefore, to
enable the reader to perceive with his own eyes the way in which
our author's ideas were formed, I have frequently had to give
summaries of, and even verhattm extracts from many of his
despatches. And this far oftener than I could have ^\ished —
swiftness of narration in view of, but never oftener than I con-
sidered necessary for a full knowledge of the subject.

Then, too, the official letters written by Machiavelli in the
Chancery form the indispensable complement of the ^^ Legations."
If the latter make us acquainted with his political life away from

xvi PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

the Republic, the former teach us to know what it was at home.
Many, of course, are of no value whatever, being simple orders
given to this or that Commissary, and hastily repeating the same
things over and over again. There are others, however, in which
we find frequent flashes of the great writer^s style, ideas, and
originality. And the majority of these letters being — as we have
shown — still unpublished, it was requisite to examine all with
great care and attention. I therefore undertook this tedious and
often ungrateful task, copying, or causing to be copied, some
thousand letters, certain of which I have quoted in the foot-notes,
from others given important extracts, while some few again I have
transcribed verbatim in the Appendix, so that the reader might be
able to have a clear idea of their general nature. This, too, con-
tributed to slacken the pace of the narrative, and try as I might,
there was no remedy for it. It was impossible to leave unmen-
tioned that which was, for so many years, Machiavelli^s principal
work ; nor was it possible to speak of so vast a mass of unpublished
letters without often quoting and inserting here and there a few
sentences, especially since there is small hope that any one will
undertake to publish them in full. It is useless to enumerate here
all the other documents which I sought out and read ; they can
easily be ascertained from the notes and appendix. I will merely
remark that during these researches I was enabled to give to the
world three volumes of Giustinian's despatches, which were col-
lected and examined by me, not only because of the fresh light
they threw upon the times occupying my attention, but also
because they enabled me to place in juxtaposition with the
Florentine secretary and orator, one of the principal ambassadors
of the Venetian Republic, and thus institute a comparison between
them. When in 1512 the Medici were reinstated in Florence,
liberty was extinguished, and Machiavelli being out of office, and
fallen into the obscurity of private life, his biography then changes
its aspect and is almost exclusively limited to the examination of
his written works and the narration of the events in the midst of
which they were composed. This, however, is the principal
subject of the second volume, which, being still incomplete, cannot
be placed before the public as soon as I should have desired. For
my own part I should have preferred waiting until both volumes
could have been published simultaneously. But in the long years
during which my studies have been carried on, I have witnessed
the publication of many fresh dissertations on, and biographies of

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION, xvii

Machiavelli, of documents, in many instances discovered and
transcribed by myself ; and so many other works bearing on the
same subject are already announced, that it appears best to publish
this first volume without further delay. Besides, this method of
publication is now so general that many excellent precedents
justify my adoption of it.

I must notify to my readers that in quoting from the works of
Machiavelli, I have made use of the Italian edition, dated 1813,
one of the best at present completed. I have, however, been
careful to collate it with the more recent edition commenced at
Florence in 1873, but still far from completion, and deprived, by
the death of Count Passerini, of its most energetic promoter.
In this, a very praiseworthy attempt has been made to give a
faithful reproduction of Machiavelli *s original orthography. But
in the many quotations inserted by me in the present work, I have
occasionally thought it advisable to expunge certain conventional
and well-known modes of speech which were out of place in a
modern work. This, however, I have done with great caution
and solely to avoid the inconvenience of changing too often or too
rapidly the material form of diction. In the Appendix, on the
contrary, I have scrupulously and entirely adhered to the original
orthography. The reader will also see that I have been frequently
forced to disagree with the two learned gentlemen who bestowed
their labours on the new edition, especially with regard to the
importance and significance they have sought to attribute to some
of the documents which they have already published. But to
this I shall refer elsewhere, merely remarking here that I have no
intention of questioning their undoubted merit, nor their care and
diligence in publishing the documents, seeing that these are of
great value to the biographer, and have frequently been made use
of by myself.

To one erroneous notice it is imperative however to refer. In
the Preface to the third volume, published in 1875, ^^^^ deploring
the loss of many of Machiavelli's letters, the editors go on to say :
**It is a known fact that many volumes of his private letters, which
were in the hands of the Vettori family, were for ever lost to
Italy by being fraudulently sold by a priest to Lord Guildford,
from whom they passed into the hands of a certain Mr. Philipps,
who, during his life, preserved them and other precious things
in his possession with such extreme jealousy, as to even refuse
to let them be examined, much less copied, for the new edition of

xviii PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

the Works of Machiavelli decreed in 1859 by the Tuscan Govern-
ment, when a request to that effect was made to him by the
Marquis of Lajatico, special ambassador to London. And although
he (Philipps) is now dead and has legally bequeathed these letters
and other things to the British Museum, we are still unable to make
use of them, his creditors having come forward to prevent his will
from being executed." Now it was impossible for me to write a bio-
graphy of Machiavelli, without making every effort to gain a sight
of the " many " volumes of private letters of which the existence was
thus positively asserted. Setting inquiries on foot, I ascertained
that Lord Guildford had really purchased in Florence three volumes
of manuscript letters, the which were indicated in his printed cata-
logue as inedited letters of Machiavelli, and further described as
a literary treasure of inestimable value. These letters were after-
wards purchased by the great English collector of manuscripts of
all kinds, Sir Thomas Phillipps, and were by him bequeathed,
with the rest of his library, to his daughter, the wife of the Rev.
E. Fenwick, and now resident in the neighbourhood of Chelten-
ham. To Cheltenham I accordingly went and at last held in my
hands the three mysterious volumes. The reader will readily
appreciate my surprise, my disappointment, on discovering that in
the whole three volumes there was only a single letter which could
even be supposed to have been written by Machiavelli !

The volumes in question are in ancient handwriting, are marked
in the Phillipps- catalogue, No. 8238, and are entitled : "Carteggio
Originale di Niccolo Machiavelli, al tempo che fu segretario della
Repubblica fiorentina. Inedito.'*

The first letter — which has no importance — bears date of the
20th of October, 1508, is written in the name of the Ten, and at
the bottom of the page has the name Nic° Maclavello, appended
to it, according to the usual custom of the coadjutor who copied
the registers of the Chancery. This is the sole letter of which the
minute may possibly have been his, but we cannot be quite sure
even of this. All the other letters — beginning with the second of
the first volume — are dated from 15 13, when he was already out
of office, and the Medici reinstated in Florence, down to 1526.
Always addressed to Francesco Vettori, now ambassador to Rome,
now envoy elsewhere, always written in the name of the Otto di
Pratica who succeeded to the Ten in 15 12, the initials N. M. are
to be found at the bottom of almost every page. Occasionally,
however, we find the name of Niccol6 Michelozzi, sometimes

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. xix

abbreviated, sometimes in full, and it was Michelozzi who was
Chancellor of the Otto di Pratica during that period. The first
letter, therefore, extracted from some register of the Republic^
was placed at the beginning of these volumes, for the sole purpose
of deceiving the too credulous purchaser, who had he taken the
trouble to look at the dates, must have understood that the others
could not possibly be by Machiavelli. So, having examined the
catalogue of the ' enormous Phillipps's library and taken a few
notes from other Italian manuscripts contained in it, I went back
to Florence with nothing gained save the certainty of the non-
existence of the supposed correspondence.

And now one last word only remains to be said. It frequently
happens that authors are pushed by some secret idea to the
choice of their subject. What chiefly urged me to mine was, that
the Italian Renaissance, of which Machiavelli was undoubtedly
one of the principal representatives, is the period in which our
national spirit had its last really original manifestation. It was
followed by a prolonged slumber from which we are only now
awakening. Hence the study of this period of our history may, if I
am not mistaken, prove doubly useful to us, not only by acquainting
us with a very splendid portion of our old culture, but likewise by
offering us more than one explanation of the vices against which
we are still combating at the present day, and of the virtues which
have assisted our regeneration. And the lesson will be all the
more valuable, the better the historian remembers that his mission
is not to preach precepts of morality and politics, but only to
endeavour to revive the past, of which the present is born, and
from which it derives continual light, continual teaching. This at
least is the idea that has given me encouragement and comfort,
by keeping alive in me the hope that, even far from the world
and shut up with my books, I am not forgetful of the mighty
debt, which now more than ever — in the measure of our strength
— we all owe to our country.

1878.

CONTENTS.

Preface to the New Edition-
Preface TO First Edition .

PAGE
V

. xi

INTRODUCTION,

I. The Renaissance
II. The Principal Italian States

I. Milan

,^^. Florence

3. Venice

'•Rome

5. Naples

III. Literature ....

1. Petrarch and the Revival of Learning

2. Learned Men in Florence
3^J^Mimed Men in Rome

^^^frAlilan and Francesco Filelfo

5. Learned Men in Naples .

6. The Minor Italian States .
^. The Platonic Academy

8. Revival of Italian Literature

IV. Political Condition of Italy at the en
Century . .

1. The Election of Pope Alexander VI.

2. The Arrival of Charles VIII. in Italy

3. The Borgia

4. Savonarola and the Republic of Florence

I
22

.22

40
48
60

68
68

100

118
123
125
132

146

D of the Fifteenth

. 180

. 180
. 188
• 203

. 218^

xxii CONTENTS.

BOOK THE FIRST.

FROM THE BIRTH OF N1CC0l6 MACHIAVELLI TO HIS DISMISSAL FROM THE

OFFICE OF SECRETARY OF THE TEN.

(I469-I512O

CHAPTER I. (1469-1498.)

PACK

Birth and Early Studies of Niccolo Ma chiav clli — His election as Secretary
of the Ten . . . . . .233

CHAPTER II. (1498-1499)

Niccolo MachJavelli begins to exercise the office of Secretary to the Ten —
His mission to Forli— Condemnation and Death of Paolo Vitelli —
** Discourse upon Pisan affairs ** . . . . . . 247

CHAITER III. (1499-1500.)

Louis XII. in Italy — Defeat and imprisonment of the Moor — Niccolo Machia-
vclli at the camp l)efore Pisa — First embassy to France . . . 265 {/

CHAPTER IV. (1501-1502.)

Tumults in Pistoia, whither Machiavelli is sent — Valentinois in Tuscany ; the
Condotta stipulated with the Florentines by him — New French army in
Italy — Fresh riots in Pistoia, and Machiavelli again sent there — The
war with Pisa goes on — Rebellion of Arezzo, and the Val di Chiana —
Machiavelli and Bishop Soderini despatched to Valentinois's Court at
Urbino — The French come to assist in putting down disorders in Arezzo
— ** On the method of treating the rebellious population of the Val di
Chiana " — Creation of a Gonfalonier for life .... 282

CHAPTER V. (1502-1503.)

Legation to the Duke of Valentinois in Romagna — The doings of the Pope
y in Rome at the same period — Machiavelli composes his " Descrizione " of

events in Romagna ....... 301

CHAPTER VI. (1503.)

Necessity for new taxes — "Discorso suUa prowisione del denaro" — Defensive
measures against the Borgia — War with Pisa — New misdeeds of the
Pope — Predominance of the Spaniards in the Neapolitan kingdom —
Death of Alexander VI.— Election of Pius III. and of Julius II. . 336

CHAPTER VIL (1503-1504.)

The Florentines show themselves hostile to the Venetians — Legation to Rome
— The Spaniards are victorious in Naples — Second Legation to France
— Renewal of the war with Pisa — Fruitless attempts to turn the course
of the Amo— First " Decennale " — A lost manuscript . • . 355

\y

CONTENTS. xxiii

CHAPTER VIII. (1505-1507.)

PAGE

Sad conditions of Umbria— Legation to Perugia — War perils— New Legation
to Sienna — Defeat of Alviano— The Florentines attack Pisa, and are re-
pulsed — Legation to the Court of Julius II.— Institution of the Florentine
Militia ......... 379

CHAPTER IX.

The age of Julius II. — Fine Arts— Leonardo da Vinci— Michel Angelo —
RafTaello — The new literature — Ariosto — The early writings of Francesco
Guicciardini ........ 410

CHAPTER X. (1506-1510.)

Machiavelli superintends the drilling of the Militia— His journey to Sienna —
General condition of Europe — Maximilian makes preparations for coming
into Italy, to assume the imperial crown — Machiavelli's mission to the
Emperor — His writings on France and Germany . . . 450

CHAPTER XI. (1508-1509.)

Fresh devastation of Pisan territory — Negotiations with France and Spain —
Pisa is pressed on all sides — Machiavelli goes to Piombino to arrange
terms of capitulation — Pisa surrenders, and is occupied by the Florentines 481

CHAPTER XIL (1508-1510.)

The League of Cambray and the battle of Agnadello — The humiliation of
Venice — A Legation to Mantua — "The second Decennale" — Machia-
velli's small vexations — The Pope as the ally of Venice and enemy of
France — Renewal of the war — Third Legation to France . . 494

CHAPTER XIII. (1510-1511.)

Soderini's enemies take heart — Cardinal dei Medici ^ns favour — Soderini
renders an account of his administration — Conspiracy of Prinzivalle
della Stufa — Taking of Mirandola — Council of Pisa — Mission to Pisa —
Fourth Legation to France . . . . . • 5^3

APPENDIX,

I. An Autograph Letter of Machiavelli, though not written in his name,

without signature, date, or address, relating to family affairs . 533

II. Letter of the Ten of Balia to Paolo Vitelli, urging him to take Pisa by

storm. — 15th August, 1499 ...... 534

III. Letter of the Ten to the Florentine Commissaries at the Camp of

Captain Paolo Vitelli.— 20th August, 1499 . . . .535

xxiv CONTENTS.

PAGE

IV. Another Letter of the Ten to the Florentine Commissaries with Paolo

Vitelli. — 25th August, 1499, attributed to Machiavelli . . 536

V. Letter of the Ten to the Commissary Giacomini Tebalducci. — 1st July,

1502 (Machiavelli's autograph) ..... 537

VI. Letter of the Ten to the Commissary at Borgo la S. Se potero. —

14th May, 1503 (Machiavelli's autograph) .... 53S

V^II. Letter of the Ten to the Commissaries at the Camp before Pisa. — 27th

May, 1503 (Machiavelli*s autograph) .... 540

VIII. Letter of the Ten to Antonio Giacomini. — 29th August, 1504 . 542

IX. Letter of the Ten to the Commissary T. Tosinghi. — 28th September,

1504 (Machiavelli's autograph) ..... 543

X. Letter of the Ten to the Commissary T. To^nghi. — 30th Septeml>cr,

1504 (Machiavelli's autograph) ..... 544

XI. Letter of the Ten to the Captain of Leghorn. — loth January-, 1504

(1505) (Machiavelli's autograph) ..... 545

XII. Machiavelli's Report on the Institution of the New Militia . . 546

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

VOLUME L

.-^ Plate. MachiaTellL (From the bust in the
possession of Count Bentivoglio) Frontispiece

. — Francesco Sforza. (From the reh'ef in the
National Museum of Florence.) To face p, 35

, — Marzocco. (From the relief by Donatello, in
the National Museum of Florence,)

To face p. 47

:— Tomb of Sixtus IV. (By A. Pollajuola.)

To face p,

, — Ferrante of Naples. (From the bronze bust
in the National Museum of Naples.)

To face p.

', — ^Cosimo dei Medici. (After the fresco by
Benozzo Gozzoli, representing the Tower of
Babel, in the Campo Santo of Pisa.)

To face p,

, — Caesar Borgia, Captain General of the Pon-
tifical troops. (After an engraving by Paul
Jove.) To face p.

VOU I. J^

xxvi LIST OF ILL USTRATIONS.

8. — Caesar Borgia's sword To face p. 216

9. — Caterina Sforza, widow of Count Girolamo
Riario. (From a medal attributed to Nicolo
Florentino.) To face p. 253

10. — Medal of Pope Alexander VI. (Reverse

showing Castle of St. Angelo.) To f cue p. 277

II. — Rome at the beginning of the Sixteenth
Century. (Facsimile of the engraving pub-
lished by Sebastian Munster.) ... To face p. 361

12. — Perugia To face p. 383

13. — Sienna Tofacep. 387

14. — Pope Julius II Tofacep. 393

15. — Plate. Portrait of Luca Signorelli painted
by himself. (From the original in the Tor-
rigiani Gallery, Florence. Engraved by the
kind permission of Marchese Torrigiani.)

Tofacep. 417

16. — Pieta of Michel Angelo Tofacep. 420

17. — The David of Michel Angelo ... To face p. 422

1 8. — Group in the " Transfiguration " of Raphael

To face p. 429

19. — The Moses of Michel Angelo... To face p. 430

20. — The Prophet Jeremiah of Michel Angelo

Tofacep. 431

2 1 . — View of Venice. (From the " Supplementum

Chronicarum/' 1490.) Tofacep. 506

THE LIFE AND TIMES

OP

NICCOLO MACHIAVELir

INTRODUCTION.

THE RENAISSANCE.

T would be difficult to find any period in the
history of modern Europe equal in importance
with that distinguished in History under the
name of the Renaissance. Standing midway
between the decay of the Middle Ages and
the rise of modem institutions, we may say
that it was already dawning in the days of
Dante Alighieri, whose immortal works while giving us the
S3mthe5i& of a dying age herald the birth of a new era. This
new era — the Renaissance — began with Petrarch and his learned
contemporaries^ and ended with Martin Luther and the Refor-
mation, an event that not only produced signal changes in the
history of nations which remained Catholic, but transported
beyond the Alps the centre of gravity of European culture.

During the period of which rnve treat, we behold a rapid
social transformation in Italy, an enormous intellectual activity.
On all sides old traditions, forms, and institutions were crumbling

VOL. L 2

2 INTRODUCTION.

and disappearing to make way for new. The Scholastic method
yielded the place to philosophy, the principle of authority fell
before the advance of free reason and free examination.

Then the study of natural science began ; Leon Battista
Alberti and Leonardo' -da Vinci hazarded the first steps in search
of the experimental^nlethod ; commerce and industry advanced ;
voyages were mufeplied, and Christopher Columbus discovered
America. The aft of printing, invented in Germany, quickly
became an Itin^n trade. Classical learning was everywhere dif-
fused, and 'th^ 'use of the Latin tongue, — now more than ever the
universal language of civilized people — placed Italy in close relation
with, the rest of Europe, as its accepted adviser and mistress
of Jearoing. Political science and the art of war w^ere created ;
c^Konicles gave way to the political histories of Guicciardini
.^JlMachiavelli ; ancient culture sprang into new life, and amid

• pVany other new forms of literary composition the romance of

• chivalry came into existence. Brunelleschi created a new archi-
tecture, Donatello restored sculpture, Masaccio and a myriad of
Tuscan and Umbrian painters prepared the way, by the study of
nature, for Raphael and Michel Angelo. The world seemed
renewed and rejuvenated by the splendid sun of Italian culture.

But, in the midst of this vivid splendour, strange and inex-
plicable contradictions were to be found. This rich, indus-
trious, intelligent people, before whoni all Europe stood, as it
were, in an ecstasy of admiration -fc- this people was rapidly
becoming corrupt. Everywhere liberty was disappearing, tyrants
were springing up, family ties seemed to be slackened, the domestic
hearth was profaned : no man longer trusted to the good faith
of Italians. Both politically and morally the nation had become
too feeble to resist the onslaught of any foreign power ; the first
army that passed the Alps traversed the peninsula almost without
striking a blow, and was soon followed by others who devastated
and trampled the country with equal impunity.

Accustomed as we are now to hear daily that knowledge and
culture constitute the greatness and prove the measure of a
nation's strength, we are naturally led to inquire how Italy could
become so weak, so corrupt, so decayed, in the midst of her
intellectual and artistic pre-eminence I

It is easy to say, that the fault lay with the Italians, who tore
each other to pieces instead of uniting for the common defence.
But to assert their guilt does not explain it. Was not the Italy

THE RENAISSANCE.

of the Middle Ages more divided and yet stronger ? were not
the civil wars and reprisals of those days e\xn blinder and more
sanguinary ? Nor is it enough to say that the country had been
exhausted by the struggles and dearly-bought grandeur of the
Middle Ages. How can we call a nation exhausted at the very
moment when its intelligence and activity are transforming the
face of the world ? Instead of wearily trying to formulate general
judgments, it is betterjo turn our attention to the observation and
description of facts And the principal fact of the fifteenth century
is this : that Italian Mediaeval institutions having engendered
a new state of society and great civil progress, suddenly became
not only insufficient^ but dangerous. Hence a radical transforma-
tion and revolution became unavoidable. And it was precisely
at the moment when this social convulsion was going on in Italy,
that foreign invaders fell upon the land and checked all internal
progress*

The Middle Ages were ignorant of the political organism known
to us as the State, which unites and co-ordinates social forces
according to precise rules. Instead, society was then divided
into Fiefs and Sub-fiefs, into great and little Communes, and
the Commune was merely a truss of minor associations, badly
bound together. Abov^e this vast and disordered mass stood the
Papacy and the Empire, which, although increasing the general
confusion by their freqvient wars against each other, still gave
some rough unity to the civilized world. In the fifteenth century
all this was entirely changed. On the one hand, great nations
were gradually coming into shape ; on the other, the authority of
the empire was restricted in Germany^ in Italy little more than a
memorj* of the past. The Pontifl^s, occupied in constituting an
^^- actual and personal temporal power, although still at the head of
^B the universal Church, could no longer pretend to the political
^^Wflpminion of the world, but aspired to be as other sovereigns. In
^^^^ib state of things, the Commune which had formed the past
[ grandeur of Italy, entered on a substantially new phase of

^H existence to which historians have attached too little importance.
^H The Commune had now obtained its long-desired independence,
and had only its own strength to rely upon : in all wars with its
I . neighbours it could no longer hope nor fear the interposition of a

I superior authority. Hunce it became necessary to enlarge its own
territory and increase its strength, the more so, since in whatever
direction it looked, it beheld great States and military monarchies

U

4 INTRODUCTION.

in process of formation throughout Europe. But owing to the
political constitution of the Commune, every extension of territory
evoked dangers of so grave a nature as to imperil its very exis-
tence. We may really say that a fatal hour had struck in which
exactly what was most necessary to it, threatened the gravest
danger. The Commune of the Middle Ages was ignorant of
representative government, and only understood a government
directed by its free citizens ^therefore, it was necessary to restrict
these to a very small number, in order to avoid anarchy. For
this reason the right of citizenship was a privilege conceded to
only a few of those who dwelt within the circuit of the city walls.
Florence, the most democratic republic in Italy, which in 1494
attained to its most liberal constitution, numbered at that date
about 90,000 inhabitants, of whom only 3,200 were citizens
proper.' Even the Ciompi, in their disorderly revolt, had not
claimed citizenship for all. As to the territory outside the walls,,
it was considered enough to have abolished servitude ; no one
contemplated giving it a share in the government. This state of
things was based, not only on the statutes, laws, and existing cus-
toms, but also in the profound and radical convictions of the most
illustrious men. Dante Alighieri, who had taken no small part
in the very democratic law of the Ordinamenti di Giustizia
(Rules of Justice) at the time of Giano della Bella, speaks with
regret in his poem of the days when the territory of the Commune
only extended a few paces beyond the walls, and the inhabitants
of the neighbouring lands of Campi, Figline, and Signa had not
begun to mix with those of Florence ;

*' Semprc la confusion delle persone

rrincipio fu del mal della cittadc." ^

And Petrarch, who dreamed of the ancient empire, and was sa
enthusiastic for Cola di Rienzo, advised that in reorganizing the
Roman republic, its government should be confided to the citizens
proper, excluding as foreigners the inhabitants of Latium, and
even the Orsini and the Colonna, because these families, although
Roman, were, in his opinion, of foreign descent.

Accordingly, whenever the territory of one Commune became

^ Villari, "The Hislor}' of G. Savonarola," translated by L. Homer, London.
Longmans, 1863.
* " Paradiso," xvi. 66-8. See also the lines 42-72.

THE MENAISSANCE,

Sllarged by the submission to it of another, this latter^ however
mildly governed ^ found itself completely shut out from political
life, and its principal citizens driven forth into exile in foreign parts.
The spectacle of a Pisan or a Pistoian in the Councils of the
Florentine republic would have been as extraordinary as now-a-
days that of a citizen of Paris or Berlin seated on the benches
of the Italian Parliament* It was far preferable then to fall under
a monarchy, since all subjects of a monarchy enjoyed equal
privileges, and every inhabitant of every province was eligible for
public ofiBces, In fact, Gukciardini remarked to Machiavelh,
when the latter was sketching the plan of a great Italian republic,
that such a form of government would be to the advantage of a
single city and the ruin of all others ; since a republic never grants
the benefit of its freedom ** to any but its own proper citizens/'
whereas monarchy *^ is inore impartial to all.** * And no terror could
equal that experienced by the Italian republics when Venice^ — who
yet granted greater freedom to her subjects than any other,^
turned her attention to the mainland, and aspired to the dominion
of the peninsula. They would have preferred^ not monarchy
alone, but even foreign monarchy, since then they might preserve
some local independence, which in those days could not be hoped
for in Italy under a republic. Guicciardini considered that Cosmo
dei Medicii in aiding Francesco Sforza to become Lord of Milan,
saved the liberty of all Italy, which would otherwise have fallen
under Venetian domination/ And Niccolo Machiavelli, who so
frequently sighed for a republic, yet in all his ofHcial letters, in all
his missions, always speaks of Venice as the chief enemy of Italian
freedom.

In this condition of things, with these convictions, it was impos-
sible to hope that the Commune could unite Italy by the formation
of a strong republic. One might hope in a confederation or in a
monarchy ; but the first presupposed a central government diffe-
rent from that of the Communes, in which the city was no longer
the state, and was in opposition with the Papacy and the kings of
Naples. A monarchy instead, found arrayed against it, on the
\ one hand that ancient love of liberty which had made Italy

Gmcdartiini, *' Opere Inedite/' published by Counts Picro and Luigi Guicci-
I :sirdmi, in Florence, from 1857 to iS66« in ten vols. See in voL i, (*' ConAidera*
I jioni intoruo del Discorsi di Machiavelli") ihe consideration on chap* xii. of the
course*." Guicciardini at this point styles kingdom what we call monarchy,
t monarchy the union of many Communes in one repiiblic,
** Opefe Inedite,*' vol. iJL ; ** Storia di Firenze," pp. 8, 9.

6 INTRODUCTION,

glorious, and on the other the Popes, who, placed in the centre of
the Peninsula, too weak to be able to unite it, but strong enough
to prev'ent others from doing so, from time to time called in
foreigners who came to turn all things upside down. For all
these reasons the Commune, once the strength and greatness of
Italy, may be said to have outlived itself in presence of the novel
social problems now arising on all sides, and among the
thousand dangers welling up in its own bosom. The Commune
had proclaimed liberty and equality. How then could the lower
classes, who had fought and conquered feudalism side by side with
the wealthy merchant class, be content to be excluded from the
government ?

Neither could the inhabitants of the territory without the walls,
who were bound to take arms in the defence of their country,
be disposed to tolerate entire exclusion from every public office,
from every right of citizenship. And as the territory extended, and
new cities were vanquished, the number of the oppressed increased,
and passions became inflamed as the disproportion between the
small number of the governing and the great number of the
governed continually augmented, and all equilibrium became
impossible. Had a skilful tyrant then stepped forward, he would
have been supported by an infinite multitude of malcontents, to
whom he would have appeared in the light of a liberator, or at
least in that of an avenger.

And if we turn our eyes from political conditions to social, we
shall notice a transformation of equal gravity and equal danger.
Looked at from afar, at first sight, the Commynes of the Middle
Ages appear to be small states in the modern s^nse of the word ;
yet in reality they were merely agglomerations of a thousand
-different associations. Greater guilds (Arti), and lesser guilds,
societies and leagues all arranged as so many republics ^vith their
as.semblies, statutes, tribunals, and ambassadors. These were
sometimes stronger than the central government of which they
did the work when — as often happens in times of revolution
— that government was entirely suspended. We might almost
say that the strength of the Commune consisted entirely in the
associations that divided and governed it. To these the citizens
were so tenaciously attached that often they gave their lives in
defence of the republic, merely because it shielded the existence
of the association to which they belonged, and prevented it from ,
falling a prey to others.

THE RENAISSANCE. 7

Hence the Middle Ages have justly been called the ages of
associations and castes. The great number and variety of these
produced an infinite variety of characters and passions unknown
to the ancient world ; but the modern individual, independence,
was not yet created, every individual being then absorbed as it
were, in the caste in which and for which he lived. In fact,
during a very long period, Italian history seldom records the
names of the politicians, soldiers, artists, and poets who were the
founders and defenders of the Communes, the creators of Italian
institutions, letters and arts. They were Guelphs and Ghibellines,
major and minor arts or trades, wandering poets, master masons,
always associations or parties, never individuals. Even the colossal
figures of popes and emperors derive their importance, less from
their personal characteristics and qualities, than from the system
to which they belonged, or the institution they represented.

All this rapidly disappeared in the fifteenth century. Dante's
Titanic form stood out from the mediaeval background, in the
midst of which he still lived, and he boasted with pride of having
been his own party. The names of poets, painters, and party
leaders were now frequently heard, and individual characters
began to be seen in distinct prominence above the crowd. We
behold a general transformation of Italian society, which, after
having destroyed feudalism and proclaimed equality, found itself
compelled to dissolve the associations that had helped to constitute
it in its new form. And more than elsewhere this is most clearly
seen in Florence where the Ordma?nenti di Giitstizia (1293)
abased the nobility and drove them from the government ; sup-
pressed certain of the associations ; rendered cliques impossible ;
and for the^st time placed a Gonfalonier ' at the head of the
CommuneC^he necessity of beginning to constitute the unity of
the modern state was a natural result of the increasing democratic
form assumed by the Commune ; this was indeed the weighty
problem Italy had to solve in the fifteenth century. But the
period of change and transition was beset by a thousand dangers ;
old institutions fell to pieces before new arose, each individual,
left to his own guidance, was solely ruled by personal interest
and egotism ; hence moral corruption became inevitable.

Morality, in the Middle Ages, had its chief basis in the closeness v

* I have treated this argument at length in an article entitled *' La Rcpublica
Florentina al temjx) di Dante Alighieri," published in the *' Nuova Antologia,"
vol. xi. pp. 443 and following (July, 1869).

8 INTRODUCTION,

of family bonds and class ties. Of such bonds both law and
custom were verj- jealous guardians : they kept up family
inheritances, prevented their removal by marriage to another
Commune ; and moreover rendered marriage extremely difficult
between persons, not only of different Communes, but even of
opposing parties in the same city. Hence in the bosom of each
caste we find a great community of interests ; tenacious affection
and great spirit of sacrifice ; much jealousy and frequent acts of
hatred and revenge against neighbours. Little by little all this
vanished, owing to the snapping of old ties by political reform,
by increased equality, and by the increased application of the
imperial Roman law rendering women less subject to the
domination of their male relatives. And precisely as the Com-
mune had been suddenly left to rely upon its own resources
on the cessation of Imperial or Papal supremacy, so the
citizen, released from all bonds, found himself in isolated depen-
dence on his own strength. He could no longer feel the old
interest in the fate of neighbours who no longer concerned them--
selves with him ; his future, his worldly condition, now.JSOlely
depended on his own individual qualities. Thus at one and the
same time egotism became a power in society and human individu-
ality developed in ever fresh and var}'ing forms. Not only did
individual names multiply and ambitious faction -leaders arise on
all sides ; but the civil wars of the Communes seemed to be con-
verted into personal feuds ; cities were divided by the names of
their most powerful and turbulent citizens ; families split asunder
and tore each other to pieces ; men no longer recognized the
sanctity of any bond. The prejudices, traditions, virtues and
vices of the Middle Ages all disappeared to make way for another
state of society and other men.

All who take into consideration the double transformation
which our Republics have undergone will perceive that while on
the one hand they were weakened by the aggrandisement of their
territories, and felt increasing need of a central government of
greater strength, bearing more equally upon all, on the other
hand in proportion to the loosening of the bonds of caste, the
number increased of ambitious and audacious individuals whose
only object was the acquisition of power. The outbreak of these
ambitions at the very time in which the Communes were natu-
rally tending towards monarchial forms, constituted a very serious
danger ; and thus, as at one time Communes had sprung up all

THE RENAISSANCE.

over Italy, so now the hour had struck for the uprishig of
tyrants.

But whatever his vices^ the Italian tyrant had a certain indi-
viduality of character^ a real historical importance. It was not
necessary for him to be of noble or powerful descent, nor even
to be the first-born of his house. A tradesman, a bastardy an
adventurer of any kind, might command an army, head a revo-
lution, become a tyrant, provided that he had audacity and the
talent of success. History records many strange tales of this
sort, and the Italian novelists who so faithfully depicted the
manners of their times, often cut jests about obscure persons who
took it into their heads to try and become t^nrants ; as, for
instance of that shoemaker who, as Sacchetti tells us, ** wished to
possess himself of the lands of Messer Ridolfo da Camerino/' '
The fifteenth century was rightly styled the age of adventurers
and bastards, Borso d'Este at Ferrara^ Sigismotido Malatesta at
Rimini, Francesco Sforza at Milan^ Ferdinand of Aragon at
Naples, and many other lords and princes were bastards. No
one was longer bound by any conventions or traditions ; every-
thing depended on the personal qualities of those who dared to
tempt fortune, on the friends and adherents whom they knew how
to gain.

Compelled to snatch their power from the midst of a thousand
risks and a thousand rivals, they lived in a state of perpetual war-
fare and licence : no scruples forbade them the use of violence,
treason, or bloodshed. For these men, wrong-doing had no limits
save those imposed by expediency and personal needs j they
looked upon it as a means adapted to reach a desired end.
To exceed those limits was regarded not as a crime but as a
folly unworthy of a politician, since it brought no advantage.
Their conscience ignored remorse, their reason calculated
and measured everything ; but even when all difficulties were
overcome, and success attained, their dangers were by no means
at an end. It was necessary to struggle against the fierce dis-
content of those who, by force of habit, could not bear to live
without taking part in the government ; against the savage dis-
appointment of those rival aspirants to tjTannical power who had
been forestalled or defeated. When a popular rising was put
down by force, daggers were secretly pointed from every side,
and plots were all the more cruel, since they bore the stamp of
* Novella XC edit, Le Monnier* Florence, 1S60-61.

lo INTRODUCTION.

personal revenge ; were woven by friends, by members of the
family : the nearest relations, — often brothers, — were seen con-
tending for the throne with steel and poison. Thus the Italian
tyrant was, as it were, condemned to reconquer his kingdom

'. daily ; and to this end he considered any and every means
justifiable.

\\\ this miserable state of things, personal courage, military
valour, and a remorseless conscience were not the only qualities
required ; it was also needful to have great presence of mind^
astute cunning, profound knowledge of men and things, and
above all complete control of personal passions. It was
necessary to study social, as we study natural phenomena, to

'I f have no illusions, to depend upon nothing but reality. It was
imperative for every tyrant to thoroughly understand his o^vn king-
dom, and the men among whom he lived, in order to be able to
dominate them, to discover a fitting form of government, to build
up an administrative system, justice, police, public works, every-
thing in short, on the ruins of the past. All substantial power was
concentrated in the tyrant's hands, and the unity of the new state
came into birth as his personal creation. And with him were
bom the science and the art of government ; but at the same
time an opinion was diffused, that afterwards became a very
general and fatal error — namely, that laws and institutions are
inventions of the statesmen, rather than the natural results of the
nation's history and social and civil development. • During the
Middle Ages, state and history were believed to be the work of
Providence, in which human will and reason had no part ;
during the Renaissance, on the contrary, everything was thought
to be the work of man, who, if foiled in his intents, could blame
none but himself and Fortune, which was held to have a large
chare in the ordering of human destinies. In a country so divided
and subdivided as Italy, these vicissitudes were everywhere
multiplied and repeated ; and it is easy to imagine how much
and in how many different ways they contributed to the cor-
ruption of the country. Tyrants sprang up among republics,
popes, and Neapolitan kings, and all being jealous one of the
other, sought the friendship of neighbours and foreigners, in
order to weaken and divide their enemies. Thus plots and
intrigues increased ad infimtum^ and at the same time a strange
network of political interests was formed which multiplied the
international relations of the different states, caused the first idea

THE RENAISSANCE. ir

of political balance to arise in Italy, and endued our diplomacy
with marvellous activity, intelligence, and wisdom. Those were
days in which every Italian seemed a born diplomatist : the
merchant, the man of letters, the captain of adventurers,
knew how to address and discourse with kings and emperors,
duly observing all conventional forms, and with an admirable
display of acumen and penetration. The despatches of our
ambassadors were among the chief historical and literary
monuments of those times. The Venetians stood in the first
rank for practical good sense and observation of facts, the
Florentines for elegance of style and subtle perception of cha-
racter, but they had worthy rivals in the ambassadors of other
states. Thus, the art of speaking and Avriting became a for-
midable weapon, and one that was highly prized by Italians.

It was then that adventurers, immovable by threats, prayers
or pity, were seen to yield to the verses of a learned man.
Lorenzo dei Medici went to Naples, and by force of argument
persuaded Ferrante d*Aragona to put an end to the war and
conclude an alliance with him. Alfonso the Magnanimous, a
prisoner of Filippo Maria Visconti, and whom all believed dead,
was instead honourably liberated because he had the skill to
convince that gloomy and cruel tyrant that it would better serve
his turn to have the Aragonese at Naples than the followers of
Anjou, winding up his argument by saying : " Would^st thou
rather satisfy thy appetite than secure thee thy State ? " *
In a revolution at Prato, got up by Bernardo Nardi, this leader,
according to Machiavelli, had already thrown the halter round
the neck of the Florentine Podesta when the latter's fine reason-
ing persuaded him to spare his life ; and thus nothing more
went well with him.* Such facts may sometimes be exaggerations
or even wholly fictitious ; but seeing them so constantly re-
peated and believed, proves what were the ideas and temper of
these men.

Therefore it is not astonishing if even tyrants loved study and
ardently encouraged art, literature, and culture in every shape.
And they did this, not merely from a keen perception of the
art of governing or as a means for turning the people's attention
from politics ; it was likewise a necessity of their condition, a true

' Machiavelli, *'Storie," vol. xi. lib. v. p. ii. We generally quote the works
of this author from the edition of 1813.
^ Machiavelli, " Slorie," lib. vii. p. 184.

12 INTRODUCTION.

and real intellectual need. A well-written diplomatic note,
a skilful discourse, could resolve the gravest political questions.
To what did the Italian tyrant owe his dominions, if not to
his own intelligence ? How could he be indifferent to the arts
which educated it and increased his importance ? His happiest
hours of rest from state affairs were passed among books, literati,
and artists. The museum and the library were to him that
which the stable and the cellar were to many feudal lords of the
north ; everything that could cultivate or refine the mind was
a necessary element of his life : in his palace the perfect courtier
was formed, the modern gentleman came into existence.

There was, however, a strange contradiction in the men of that
period, a contradiction that often appears to 'us an insoluble
enigma. We can forgive the savage passions and crimes of the
Middle Ages, or can at all events understand them, but to
behold men who speak and think like ourselves, men who
experience genuine delight before a Madonna by Fra Angelico
or Luca della Robbia, before the aerial curves of Alberti's
and Brunelleschi's architecture, men who show disgust at a coarse
attitude, at a gesture that is not of the most finished elegance ; to
behold these men abandon themselves to the most atrocious
crimes, the most obscene vices ; to behold them using poison
to dismiss from the world some dangerous rival or relative : this
it is that we cannot comprehend. It was a transitional period in
which it may be said that the passions. and characteristics of two
different ages had been grafted one upon the other, in"order to
form before our eyes a mysterious sphinx which excites pur
wonder and almost our fear. But we should be too severe
towards it were we to forget that one age may not be judged by
the creeds and rules of another.

In whatever direction we turn our eyes, we behold the same
facts reproduced under different forms. The military forces of
the fifteenth century were no longer those of the Middle Ages,
and, though widely different from, gave birth to the modern
army. In the times of the Communes, wars were carried on by
lightly armed foot-soldiers. Every spring the merchant, the
artizan, buckled on their breastplates, marched outside the walls
to the attack of baronial castles and neighbouring lands, and then
went quietly back to their workshops. Very little importance
was given to cavalry, which, for the most part, consisted of nobles.
But as time went on all this entirely changed. Wars became

THE RENAISSANCE.

IS

N

much more complicated, and an army's main strength consisted
in the heavy cavalry, or, as the phrase went, in the men-at-arms.
Each one of the^e wa^ follou-ed by two or three horsemen,
bearing the heavy armourj which he and his charger only donned
in the hour of action, for its weight was so terrible, that if they
fell to the ground with it, they could not rise again without help.
And this species of iron -clad tower wielded a lance of enormous
length, with which he could overthrow a foot-soldier before the
latter could reach him with halberd or sword. One squadron of
this cavalry was always enough to rout an army of infantry, until
the invention of gunpowder and improvement of firearms again
transformed the art of war. The Florentines learnt this to their
cost, when on the field of Motitaperti (1260) a handful of German
cavalry, joined to the Ghibellinc exiles, put to rout the strongest
infantry force ever collected in Tuscany. And at Campaldino
{1289) the Tuscan foot had to throw themselves under the horses
of the men-at-arms and rip them up before they could win the
battle. This new method of fighting had a fatal result for our
republics. It required long training and continual practice to
form a good man-at-arms ; how could artizans and merchants find
time for that ? There were no standing armies in those days^
and the aristocracy^ which akuie could have been trained to
live under arms, had been destroyed in the Italian Communes.
What then was to be done ? Recourse was had to foreigners,
and the use of mercenary troops began.

In other countries the aristocracy preserved its power ; and
accordingly there were plenty of men who made fighting their trade.
These were always nobles with a following of vassals. Every
time that the Emperor descended upon Italy, every time that the
partj^ of Anjou resumed their continual tntt-rpri^es upon Naples,
or the Spaniards made some new raid, there remained behind at
the end of the campaign a number of soldiers and disbanded
troops, who, eager of adventure, sought and took service under the
different lords and Republics. The first arrivals always attracted
others, for bountiful pay was given, and foreigners found us easy
prey by reason of our lack of men-at-arms. Bands of adventurers
began to be formed who sold their swords to the highest bidder.
These soon became insolent bullies, dictating laws to friends
and enemies alike. But little by little the Italians began to enrol
themselves under these banners, and fascinated by the new way of
life, multiplied so rapidly and succeeded so well that they soon set

14 . INTRODUCTION,

about forming native companies. Certainly there was no lack of
material among us for captains and soldiers. What better career for
party leaders who had been defeated in their ambitious design by
still more ambitious rivals ? They hurried to join the first band
of adventurers they could find, and trained themselves to arms in
order to command later a squadron or company of their own. By
serving under a noted leader, or forming a band, the pettiest
tyrants were enabled to defend and aggrandize their own State.
When one Republic was conquered and subdued by another, the
citizens who had ruled and then unsuccessfully defended it, some-
times emigrated en masse to wander about as adventurers, and
.sought in warfare the liberty they had lost at home. Thus did
the Pisans when their Republic fell into the hands of the Floren-
tines, and thus did many others. Country districts gave a good
number of soldiers, and certain provinces like Romagna, the
Marshes, and Umbria — where anarchy was so great that men
seemed to live by rapine, vengeance, and brigandage — were a
nursery and mart of mercenary leaders and soldiers.

These bands can neither be called a mediaeval nor a modem
institution. Peculiar to a transitional period, they had a temporary
character, being composed of fragments of all the recently
destroyed old institutions, and were altogether disastrous ; but
nevertheless they were imbued with the spirit of the new Italian
Renaissance, and owed their importance to it. Our Italian
companies soon began to gain the upper hand over the
foreign — especially after Alberico da Barbiano had created his
new art of war — and assumed a different form and character.
For the foreign bands were commanded by a council of leaders,
each one of whom had great authority over his own men, who
were generally, at least in part, his private vassals, and were
ready to follow him and separate from the others whenever
required. In Italy, on the contrary, the importance and
strength of the band depended entirely on the valour and
military genius of the man who commanded and almost personi-
fied it. The soldiers obeyed the supreme will of their head,
without, however, being bound to him by any personal fealty
or submission, and were ready to forsake him in favour of a more
famous leader or higher pay. War became the work of a
directing mind ; the army was held together by the name and
courage of its commander ; every battle was, as it were, his own
military creation.

THE RENAISSANCE. 15

Thus was formed the school of Alberico da Barbiano, to be
speedily followed by those of Braccio da Montone, the Sforza,
the Piccinini, and many more, each learning his trade in
another^s ranks. The Italian captain created the science and
art of war, as the prince created the science and art of
government. Both in one and the other were the highest
manifestations of talent and individuality ; in both the one and
the other the moral strength was lacking which alone can give
true stability to the works of man. The individual was nowhere
more free from the conventional ties of the Middle Ages than in
these bands ; his fame and power alike depended solely on his
own courage, his own genius.

Muzio Attendolo Sforza, one of the most terrible captains of
his time, and who became High Constable of the Kingdom of
Naples, had originally been a field-labourer, and began his
military career as a stable-boy. His natural son, Francesco,
was Duke of Milan. Carmagnola, commander-in-chief of the
Venetian's most formidable armies, and lord of many estates,
began life as a herdsman. Niccol5 Piccinini, before becoming
a famous captain, was a member of the guild of butchers in
Perugia. Nor did these things cause the smallest surprise to any
one. The free company was an open field to individual activity ;
strength, luck, and talent alone commanded in it ; there were no
traditional nor moral trammels of any sort. The Free Companies
made war without serving any principle or any fatherland,
transferring their aid from friends to enemies for higher pay or
finer promises. As for military honour, maintenance of oaths,
fidelity to his own banner, all such things were unknown to the
free captain, who would have deemed it puerile and ridiculous to
allow such obstacles to stop him on the road to fortune and
power, — the sole objects of his life.

In many respects his career and character resembled those of
the Italian tyrant. At the head of a complicated . and difficult
administration, he had daily to collect new soldiers, in order to
fill vacancies in his ranks, caused more frequently by desertion
than by the sword of the enemy, and he had daily to find the
money for paying his men in peace and war. He was in con-
tinual relations with the Italian States, seeking employment and
gaining money by threats or promises, and corresponding with
those who made the highest bids to carry him off from their
adversary. In fact, he resembled the lord of some city that

1 6 INTRODUCTION,

moved from place to place, a circumstance that did not make it
easier to govern ; even as the tyrant, he lived in perpetual
danger, and more so when at peace than at war. He was
constantly threatened by the jealousies of the other leaders of bands
or companies ; by the ambition of his subordinates, who often
plotted conspiracies against him ; also by fear of being left
without an engagement, and having to disband his army for
want of funds. Having no certainty of his good faith, the States
he served always held him in suspicion, and from doubts passed
readily to deeds, as was seen by the fate of Carmagnola and Paolo
Vitelli, suddenly seized and beheaded, the one by the Venetians,
the other by the Florentines, at the head of whose armies they
fought. It was singular, too, to see these men — generally of low
origin and devoid of culture — surrounded in their camps by
ambassadors, poets, and learned men, who read to them Livy and
Cicero, and original verses, in which they were compared to
Scipio and Hannibal, to Caesar and Alexander. When, as very
often happened, they conquered some territory on their own
account, or received it in return for their services, they were
really captains and princes at the same time.

Thus, then, war became a kind of diplomatic and commercial
operation for the Italian States ; he was the conqueror who could
find most money, procure most friends, and best flatter and
reward the celebrated captains whose fidelity was only to be kept
alive by fresh money and fresh hopes. But soon the true military
spirit began to perish among these soldiers, who fought to-day
against their comrades of yesterday, with whom they might be
again united in the next four-and-twenty hours. Th eir object
w^ no longer victory, but spoil. Later the Free Companies
disappeared altogether, to be replaced by the standing armies for
whom they had prepared the way ; but they left behind them a
load of heavy calamities, during which Italians gave proof of much
talent and great courage ; founded the new art of war ; manifested
an iniSnite variety of aptitudes, qualities, and military characteristics ;
and yet became continually weaker, continually more corrupt.

In literature we see more clearly than elsewhere the general
transformation that took place at this time. Our historians in
general deplore, without seeming to understand why the Italians,
after having created a splendid national literature by the " Divina
Commedia," the " Decamerone," and the " Canzoniere," * should
* The Sonnets of Petrarch.

THE RENAISSANCE. 17

have gone astray from the glorious path, by turning to the
imitation of ancient writers, almost despising their own tongue,
and upholding the use of Latin. But on reading the works of
Dante and Petrarch iiid Boccaccio, it is easy to perceive that
these authors opened the path trodden by the fifteenth century.
In the " Divina Commedia " antiquity holds throughout a post
of honour, and is almost sanctified by a boundless admiration ; in
the " Decameron " Latin periods already transform and transplace
Italian periods ; Petrarch is undoubtedly the first of the men of
learning.

Whoever compares Italian writers of the thirteenth century
with those appearing at the end of the fifteenth and the
beginning of the si^^teenth centuries, will speedily see that the
time spent upon the classics during that interval had not been
thrown away. In fact, in reading, I will not say the " Fioretti di
San Francesco " and the " Vite " of Cavalca, but the ** Monarchia "
and the " Convito " of Dante, and even the " Divina Commedia,"
we must, as it were, transport ourselves into another world ; the
author frequently reasons in the old scholastic style ; neither
observes nor sees the world as we see it. If, on the other hand,
we look at the works of Guicciardini, Machiavelli, and their con-
temporaries, we find men who, even with different opinions, think
and reason like ourselves. The scholastic systems, mysticism, and
allegories of the Middle Ages have so entirely disappeared that
no memory of them seems any longer to exist. We are on this
earth, in the midst of reality, with men who no longer look upon
the world through a fantastic veil of mystic illusion, but with
their own eyes, their own reason, unenslaved by any authority.
And thus the question arises : in what way did the scholars of
the fifteenth century contrive to discover a new world by means
of classical studies, almost as Columbus discovered America in
seeking ^ fresh passage to the Indies ?

The Middle Ages, in order to re-awaken a new spiritual life
in mankind, had despised earthly concerns and the needs of
society, had subjected philosophy to theology, the State to the
Church. The real was only considered useful as a symbol or
allegory to express the ideal, the earthly city merely a preparation
for the heavenly ; there was a reaction against all that had been
the essence of Paganism, the inspiration of ancient art. Thus
human reason remained shut up in scholastic syllogisms, in the
clouds of mysticism, in the fantastic and complicated creations of
VOL., I. 3

x8 INTRODUCTION.

the romances of chivalry and minstrelsy of Provence. But when
with a sudden rush of new inspiration, Italian poetry and prose
sprang up to describe the real passions and affections of mankind,
sentence of death was passed on the world of the Middle Ages."
The old vague and fantastic forms could not stand against these
new and precise analyses, this splendid imagery, this style and
language, through which thought shines as through the purest
crystal. This literature, however, in giving a new direction to
the human mind, soon gave birth to new needs, all of which it
could not satisfy. It is true that a poetic language was now in
existence, that incomparable forms had been found for the tale,
the sonnet, the song, and the poem : but the new philosophical,
epistolary, oratorical, and historical styles were still unborn. For
this reason the writer of the thirteenth century very often
resembled a man who, in spite of having strong limbs, travels
a road so narrow and so beset with obstacles, that he cannot
walk without help ; in order to keep his feet he is obliged from
time to time to support himself on scholastic crutches. Who can
help perceiving that Dante himself had still one foot in the
Middle Ages, when in his "Monarchia'* we find him disputing
whether the Pope should be compared to the sun, the Emperor
to the moon : whether the fact of Samuel deposing Saul, and
the offerings of the Magi -to the infant Saviour, can prove the
dependency of the Empire on the Church ? In reading the
** Cronaca " of Giovanni Villani, we find not merely a writer of
much graphic power, but a most acute observer, whom nothing
escapes, a man practised in the world and its affairs. He sees
and notes everything ; battles, revolutions both political and
social, forms of government, new buildings, pictures and literary
works, the industry, commerce, taxes, expenditure, and revenues
of the republic ; for he sees that human society is composed of
all these things, and that from them is derived the power and
prosperity of States. Yet never once does he hit upon the
logical unity of historic narration that connects all these

* My excellent colleague and friend, Professor A. Bartoli, in one of his
**Memorie" among the " Pubblicazioni della Sezione di Filosofia e Hlologia
deir Institute Superiore" (Florence, Le Monnier and Co., 1875, vol.i. p. 351 follow-
ing), has recently shown that the study of nature, as well as of the classics, had
followers throughout the Middle Ages, and hence that the realism of the Renais-
sance had a more ancient origin than is generally believed. We, however, only
treat of this historical period after it had already assumed a definite and deter-
mined form ; we do not explore its more remote origin.

THE RENAISSANCE,

«9

lents together, and makes the connecting bond visible ; his
work ntvtr rises above the modest limits of a chronicle. And
whenever the writer of the thirteenth century treats of philosophy
or politics, whenever he tries to compose an oration or a letter,
he seems condemned to resume the fetters he has snapped.

It was necessary, therefore, to enlarge the limits of style ; to
spread the language ; to render it more universal, more flexible ;
to find out new literary forms which were still wanting, and
had now become necessary* And this want began to be felt at
the ver>^ moment when the young and vigorous growth of the
national strength had been arrested by the political and social
compUcations which we have already noted. Thus the spring of
originality suddenly failed which had already created our litera-
ture, and which alone could complete it, by leading it towards
the new forms it sought. But as these forms are not changeable
at pleasure J but determined by the laws of nature and of thought,
and were first discovered by the Greeks and the Romans, in
whose writings they still maintain all the vigour, splendour ^ and
originality which works of art possess only at the moment of
their first creation, a return towards the past presented itself as
a natural means of progress, and the close relation of Italian
culture to Latin made it seem like a new draught from the
primal source, a return to the old national grandeur. The
Greeks and the Latins offered to Italy a literature inspired by
nature and reality, guided by reason alone, neither subject to any
authority, nor veiled in the clouds of allegory or of mysticism ;
to imitate this literature, then, was to break the last fetters of
the Middle Ages. Thus in all things the impulse was towards
the ancient world. It was there that painting and sculpture
found perfected study of the human form and faultlessness of
design ; it was there that architecture discovered a more solid
mode of construction, and one better adapted to the various
needs of social life ; it was there that the man of letters found
the mastery of style of which he was in search, and the philo-
sopher, independence of reason and observation of nature ; it
was there, in the Roman world, that the politician beheld that
State unity which not only science, but society itself, was then
seeking as its necessary aim.

Imitation of the antique became a species of mania that seized
upon all men ; tyrants sought to copy Caesar and Augustus,
republicans Brutus, free captains Scipio and Hannibal, philo-

20 INTRODUCTION,

sophers Aristotle and Plato, men of letters Virgil and Cicero,
even the names of persons and places were changed for Greek
and Latin ones.

Yet the Middle Ages had certainly not ignored all ancient
writers, and held some of them in almost religious respect.
But mediaeval classic learning was, with slight exception, very
different from that which now arose. It had been restricted to
a small number of the more recent Latin writers, who having
lived under the Empire which still seemed to dominate the world,
and was deemed immutable and immortal, were less removed
from Christian ideas, were read almost as contemporary authors ;
and whose works were twisted and bent to support the tenets of
Christianity. Virgil prophesied the coming of Christ ; Cicero's
ethics must be identical with those of the Gospels ; and Aristotle,
known only in Latin translations and garbled by his commen-
tators, was made to maintain the immortality and spirituality of
the soul in which he had no belief. The tastes and desires of the
fifteenth century were widely different. There was no desire now
to transform the Pagan into the Christian world ; this century
wished to recur to the former and be thus led back from the city
of God to that of men, from heaven to earth. Therefore a know-
ledge of the more recent classic writers was no longer sufficient ;
it was necessary to read all and the more ancient with most
ardour, since they demanded a greater mental effort, and rendered
necessary a longer ideal journey. For that reason ancient manu-
scripts were eagerly hunted for and commented upon, ancient
monuments discussed with a feverish activity unexampled in
history. It seemed as though the Italians wished not only to
imitate the ancient world, but to raise it from the tomb and bring
it to life again, since they felt that in it they learnt to know
themselves, and entered, as it were, into a second life ; it was a
true and genuine renaissance. Nor did they perceive that
their imitations and reproductions were animated by a new spirit
that went on gradually developing, at first in an invisible and
hidden way, till at last it burst suddenly from its chrysalis, and
shone forth in a national and modern shape. Thus it was by
study of the ancients that the Italians were enabled to free them-
selves and Europe from the fetters of the Middle Ages, and
instead of interrupting, they continued and completed in a
different form the work begun by the writers of the thirteenth
century.

THE RENAISSANCE. 21

The new literary and artistic productions were not, however,
the result of a young and vigorous inspiration, born of a young
and vigorous society, — such as that in which Dante lived, — ^full of
ardour and faith, abounding in strong characters and stern
passions. Produced at a period in which a feverish activity of
the mind still continued, but the nobler aspirations of the human
heart had ceased to exist, they showed the consequences of this
state of things. Marvellous success is attained in all branches
in which visible nature and the outer study of man and man's
actions have the principal part. The fine arts, still plastic in
their nature, lost the epic grandeur of Giotto and Orcagna, the
religious inspiration of the old Christian cathedrals ; and assimi-
lating classical forms — although unconsciously altering them —
they were inspired by Grecian genius to imitate nature and
reproduce it in new and spontaneous creations, surrounded
by an ethereal veil, with colours of unequalled brilHancy and
freshness. It was an art that, through the ingrafting of Christian
upon Pagan forms, acquired new spontaneousness and purity ;
shed immortal glory on its age and nation, and was the most
complete manifestation of the Renaissance from which it was
derived and to which it communicated its own special character.
The poetry of this period was also unrivalled in its descriptions
and reproductions of the real which stood out clear and well
defined, even amidst the most fantastic creations of the chivalric
and tragi-comic poem. Political science, treating of human
actions in their objective and exterior value, in their practical
consequences, almost apart from the moral character they acquire
in the human conscience, and the intentions by which they are
inspired, not only flourished, but was the most original creation
of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Men worked with irresistible energy ; they sought and found
every possible form of literature ; they acquired immense truth and
facility in prose and poetry ; they created the language and style
of oratory, diplomacy, history, and philosophy, but the religious
sentiment disappeared ; moral sensibility was weakened, and the
cultivation of form often increased to the disadvantage of sub-
stance, a defect which has endured for centuries in Italian
literature, almost as a witness of the conditions under which it
took its definite form. In considering this prodigious intellectual
activity, that reappeared with increasing splendour in a thousand
different shapes, yet always accompanied by moral decay, the his-

22 INTRODUCTION,

torian of those times is struck with terrified amazement, recog-
nizing the presence of a mysterious contradiction, prophetic of
future ills. When the evil secretly corroding this nation came to
the surface, a tremendous catastrophe was inevitable ; and its con*
tinual advance side by side with so much intellectual progress, is
precisely the history of the Renaissance. For the better com-
prehension of this, it is needful to examine matters still more
closely.

IT.

THE PRINCIPAL ITALIAN STATES.

1. Milan,

T Milan, for the first time^ we find an Italian
Commune transformed^ through t^Tanny, into
a modern State. Having become the centre
of a vast agglomeration of republfcs and lord-
ships, now united and now separated by dif-
ferent interests and jealousies, there arose in
its midst the power of the Visconti^ who were
divided among themselves by private and bloody dissensions. In
1378, Rernabo Visconti was in conflict with his nephew Giovan
Galeazzo, better known by his title of Count of Virtu. Both
equally ambitious and equally wicked, the first was a blind slave to
his passions, and in consequence fell a victim to his nephew, who
knew how to direct his own towards a given end. The latter suc-
ceeded in 1378 in throwing him and his children into a dungeon,
which they never left alive ; and these obstacles removed, he
began vigorously to re-organize the State and put down anarchy.

Beset by a thousand enemies, Giovan Galea^zo had no army,
and was even deficient in military courage ; but he joined to great
cunning a profound knowledge of mankind, and real political
genius, Shut up in his castle of Pavia, he took into his service
the first captains in Italy^ and the most renowned diplomatists,
weavnng, with the help of the latter, the threads of his dark
policy all over the Peninsula, which he quickly filled with
intrigues and wars ; he^ the while, directing military operations in
the solitude of his cabinet.

Thanks to his sureness of eye and promptness of will, he sue-

24 INTRODUCTION.

ceeded in making a complete hecatomb of the petty t)n*ants of
Lombardy, allying himself with one to ruin another, and finally
turning against those who had helped him, and assuming posses-
sion of their States. Thus he formed the Duchy of Milan, of
which he received the investiture from the Emperor. He then
extended his dominions to Genoa, Bologna, and Tuscany, and
hoped to place the crown of Italy upon his head, after defeating
Florence, which he had already worn out by continual wars. But
on the 3rd of December, 1402, death put an end to all his pro-
jects. It is marvellous to observe how, in the privacy of his
cabinet, he undertook many sk^fully conducted wars, and
brought them to a successful close, while at the same time
engaged in creating and ordering a new State. Although the
chief object of his government was the imposition of taxes to pay
for his incessant warfare, justice was generally well administered,
the finances were well regulated, and general prosperity was on
the increase. The free assemblies were converted into councils of
administration and police, and every city had a Potcst^^ elected, no
longer by the people, but by the Duke ; the Commune was no
longer a State, but, as in modern times, an organ of administra-
tion ; a collegio^ or council of men of authority in the capital,
already shadowed forth the modern cabinet. Surrounded by
literati diXiiS. artists — initiator of great public works, among which
are the two noblest monuments in Lombardy — the Cathedral of
Milan and the Certosa of Pavia, where, too, he gave new life and
renown to the university — Gian Galeazzo Visconti is the first
of modern princes. Under his rule mediieval institutions entirely
disappeared, and the unity of the new State was established.
This, however, being an altogether personal creation, with no
object beyond the individual interest of the prince, after his death
the State quickly lapsed into anarchy, torn by the contending
ambitions of mercenary leaders.

Later, Filippo Maria, son of Giovan Galeazzo, took in hand the
reins of government, and followed in his father's footsteps. He
had been compelled to share the State with his brother Giovanni
Maria, a ferocious man, who threw his victims to be torn to pieces
by the large pack of dogs he kept for that purpose ; but the
daggers of conspirators came to Filippo's aid, and on the 12th of
May, 141 2, Giovanni was stabbed in a church. Filippo was a
degenerate copy of his father, cunning, false, traitorous, and
cruel ; he did not possess Giovan Galeazzo's political faculty, but

MILAN. 25

•
he united perfect control over his passions to a wide knowledge of

mankind. Timid even to cowardice, he had the strangest pas*

sion for rushing into continual and dangerous wars. These,

however, he conducted by means of the first captains in Italy,

selected with admirable discrimination, and whom he contrived to

make each in turn suspicious of the other, in order to secure his

own safety from their ambition. Surrounded by spies, shut up in

his castle of Milan, which he never left, he duped everybody,

always finding fresh opportunities of deceit ; he lived in perpetual

conflict with other States, yet always escaped defeat by craft. The

Florentines were routed by him at Zagonara in 1424 ; by the

Venetians, whom he always opposed, he was defeated over and

over again ; but after making peace — not always on honourable

terms — he quickly collected more money and again declared war.

He even threw himself into the Neapolitan struggle between

the Angevins and the Aragonese, and succeeded in capturing

Alphonso of Aragon, whom he afterwards liberated, in order to

deprive the Angevins of complete victory. In the midst of the

great tumult of events and enemies that he had provoked, he

reconquered and reorganized the paternal State, holding it securely

by force of his diabolical cunning down to the day of his death in

1447.

Having no legitimate heirs, and only one natural daughter,
Bianca, had made his condition all the more perilous, since
there were many who aspired to succeed him. Among them was
one, recognized throughout Italy as the first captain of his time,
to whose aid Visconti was continually obliged to recur, as he found
himself perpetually at his mercy. Francesco Sforza was a lion
who knew how to play the fox, and Filippo Maria was a fox who
liked to don the lion's skin. They went on for many years, each
lying in wait for the other, and each thoroughly aware of the
other's secret designs. Often and often Sforza was on the brink
of total ruin, ensnared in the plots of Visconti, who then came to
his assistance. In 144 1 Filippo gave him his daughter in mar-
riage, thus nourishing his most ambitious hopes, the better to
make use of him in war, yet always weaving fresh plots against
him, from which, on his side, Sforza as often escaped without ever
yielding to any wish for revenge. And in this way, when, after a
reign of nearly fifty years, Visconti died a natural death, Sforza
had power enough to succeed in his long meditated design.

And now one dynasty is replaced by another, and the Italian

26 INTRODUCTION.

prince is presented to us under a totally different aspect. The
Visconti had been a great family, and by cunning, daring, and
political genius, had become masters of the Duchy they had built
up. The Sforza, on the contrary, were new men, of obscure
origin, and fought their way with the sword. Muzio Attendolo,
the father of Francesco Sforza, was born of a Romagnol family,
living a life of semi-brigandage and hereditary vendette in Cotig-
nola. It is said that the kitchen of their house looked like an
arsenal : among dishes and smoky saucepans hung breastplates^
swords, and daggers, which the family, men, women, and children,
all used with equal courage. While yet a mere lad, Muzio was
carried off by a band of adventurers, and being shortly afterwards
joined by his own people, he took the command of his company,
and was known by the name of Sforza, which was given to him in
the field. Possessed of indomitable courage, strength, and energy,
he was less a general than a soldier who joined in the melke and
killed his enemies with his own hands. Of a very impetuous dis-
position, some of his actions were those of a brigand, as for
instance when he ran his sword through Ottobuono III. of Parma,
while parleying with the Marquis of Este. Yet by perpetually
transferring his services from one master to another, carr)dng
disorder and devastation Avherever he went, he succeeded in
becoming lord of many lands, which he kept for himself and his
faithful followers. It was in the kingdom of Naples, while in the
pay of the capricious queen, Joanna II., that he passed through
his chief and strangest vicissitudes : first general, then prisoner,
now High Constable of the kingdom, then once more in prison,
he was on the point of perishing miserably, when at Tricarico his
sister Margherita, sword in hand, and a helmet on her head, so
thoroughly frightened the royal messengers that she obtained her
brother^s release. He was again given the command of the royal
forces, and afterwards died near Aquila, drowned in the Pescara
river, while swimming across it to urge his men to follow him on
to a victory that seemed already assured. And thus ended a life
no less stormy than the sea in which his body found a grave

J (1424).

Francesco, his natural son, a youth of twenty-three years,
instantly took command of his father's troops, and led them on
from victory to victory, giving proof of true military genius and
great political acumen. Always master of himself, he never
"'ve way to his passions, excepting when it was expedient to da

MILAN.

27

I

I

so. He sensed the Visconti against the* Venetians, the Venetians
against the Visconti ; he first attacked the Pope, depriving him
of Roma^a^ and giving his orders, invitis Peiro ct Pauhy and
then defended him. Through his military genius he became the
man whom all desired to have in their service, for it seemed as
though no power in Italy could be victorious without him,
although captains such as the Piccinini and Carmagnola were
then flourishing. But amidst all these vicissitudes he kept his
eye upon one fixed point, and on the death of Filippo Maria, it
was quickly seen how a free captain could change into a statesman.

A Republic had been proclaimed in Milan ; its subject cities
had thrown off the yoke ; Venice was threatening, and internal
dissensions had broken out. He offered the aid of his sword to
the tottering city which believed it had found in him an anchor
of safety, and then gradualiy found itself besieged by its own
captain, who^ on the 25th of March, 1410, made his triumphal
entry, with an already arranged court. His first act was to ask
the people whether, to defend themselves against the Venetians,
they would prefer to rebuild the fortress of Porta Giovio, or
maintain a permanent army within the walls. They voted for
the fortress, which soon became the strongest bulwark of tyranny
against the people. Friends and enemies alike, if formidable^
were quickly imprisoned, deprived of everything they possessed,
and even put to death without hesitation. All the State terri-
tories were reconquered, rebellion was suppressed, order, adminis-
tration, and common justice \vere re -established with marv^ellous
rapidity. And in all these acts Sforza proceeded with the calm-
ness of a man who knows his own strength, and desires to
gain a reputation for impartiality and justice. Yet, whenev^er it
seemed opportune, no one knew better than he how to get rid of
friends and enemies with perfidious cruelty.

The Revolt of Piacenza was suflfocated in the blood of his
faithful captain, Brandolini. When the slaughter had reached
its climax, and ever3rthing was pacified, Brandolint was thrown into
prison, to the general amazement, as a suspected person, and was
afterwards found with his throat cut and a blunted and bloody
sword by his side. The populace said that the Duke had thus
punished his captain^s excessiv^e cruelty ; the keener witted
declared that the Duke, after having used him to the utmost,
had got rid of a useless instrument, so that on the latter alone
the odium of the enormous bloodshed might fall. Born and

28 INTRODUCTION.

reared in war, the Duke now wished to be a man of peace, and
aimed only at the consolidation of his own State within its
natural boundaries, totally abandoning the ambitious and perilous
designs of the Visconti. And when, after an almost universal^
but not very important war, the Italian potentates concluded a
general peace in 1454, Sforza contrived to make himself implicitly
recognized by all, and retained the territories of Bergamo, Ghiara
d'Adda, and Brescia. Noted as one of the most audacious and
turbulent free captains, he was in a position to know what heavy
calamities they bring upon orderly and pacific States ; hence he
was one of those who chiefly contributed, if not to put them
down, at least to deprive them of much of their past importance,
as indeed was already happening by the natural force of events.
Jacopo Piccinini was now the sole survivor of the old school of
mercenary leaders, and truly one who had only to raise his
standard to assemble a formidable army. He was living quietly
in Milan, when he was seized by a desire to visit his lands in
the kingdom of Naples, and was much encouraged in this by
the Duke, although every one knew how sorely he was hated by
Ferrante d'Aragona. No sooner did he reach Naples than he
was received with open arms by the king, who took him to see
the palace, and then threw him into a dungeon, where he soon
died. Sforza protested loudly against this breach of faith ; but
all men believed that by agreement with the king, he had thus
freed himself of an inconvenient neighbour.

Francesco Sforza was, as a modern historian ' happily expresses
it, a man after the heart of the fifteenth century. A great
captain and an acute politician, he knew how to play both the
lion and the fox ; when bloodshed was necessary, he did not
shrink from it, but at other times he sought to distribute im-
partial justice, and even showed himself capable of generosity
and pity. He founded a dynasty, conquered a dominion, which
he left secure and well governed, and constructed great public
works, such as the Martesana Canal and the chief hospital of Milan.
Surrounded by Greek exiles and Italian scholars, the Court of the
whilom adventurer speedily became one of the most splendid in

» Burckhardt, *• Die Cultur der Renaissance in Italien : " Basle, i860. Since
then a second edition of this important work, with several changes and additions,
has appeared, and now a very faithful Italian translation has been published by
Professor D. Valbusa, with many original additions and corrections by the
author, ** La Civilt^ del secolo del rinascimento in Italia ec." Florence, Sansoni,
1876.

MILAN. 29

all Italy, and his daughter Ippolita was renowned for her Latin
discourses, which were universally extolled. The famous Cicco
(Francesco) Simonetta, a most learned Calabrian, and a man of
proved fidelity, was the Duke^s secretary, his brother Giovanni
was his historian, and Francesco Filelfo, the courtier poet, sang
his praises in the " Sforziade." Thus, celebrated in prose and verse
as the just, the great, the magnanimous, Francesco Sforza breathed
his last on the 8th of March, 1466. He had attempted all things^
succeeded in all things, therefore his contemporaries believed him
the greatest man of the age. But of what nature was the State
that he had actually constituted ? A society whose every element
of strength was rapidly exhausted ; a people whom its sovereign
believed he could mould into any form he would, as if they were
plastic material in the hands of a new artist, whose sole merit
consists in carrying out the ends he proposes, whatever those
ends may be. Neither the Visconti nor Sforza ever conceived
any truly great or fertile political idea, for they never identified
themselves with the people, but only made it an instrument of
their own interests. They were masters in the art of governing,
but they never succeeded in founding a true government, for by
their own tyranny they ha^l destroyed its essential elements. The
fatal consequences of their policy, which was too truly the
Italian policy of the fifteenth century, were to be speedily made
apparent throughout the Peninsula, just as on the Duke's death
they began to be manifested in Milan.

Sforza*s dissolute and cruel son, Galeazzo Maria, had so depraved
a disposition that he was even accused of having poisoned his
own mother. In the belief that all was lawful and possible for
a prince, he, in an age that might almost be called civilized,
caused several of his subjects to be buried alive, others, on the
most frivolous pretexts, he condemned to death amid lingering
tortures, and only spared those who could redeem their lives with
gold. He dissipated treasures in his festivals at Milan, and
his cavalcades all through Italy, spreading corruption wher-
ever he went. Not content with seducing the daughters of the
noblest Milanese houses, he himself exposed them to public con-
tempt. Neither public institutions nor popular indignation
imposed a check upon his unbridled licence, for the people no
longer existed, and all institutions had become mere engines of
tyranny.

At last an end was put to this state of things by one of the

30 INTRODUCTION

most singular and noteworthy of the many conspiracies for which
this age was remarkable.

Girolamo Olgiati and Giannandrea Lampugnani, pupils of
Niccola Montano^who had trained them by classical studies to
lo veyt«Kbert)^ hate^\antf^)franny , being injured by the Duke,
resolved on revdKge/^^tui found in Carlo Visconti a third com-
panion moved by the same motives. They strengthened their
zeal for the enterprise by the i study of Sallust and Tacitus, they
practised stabbing with the sheaths of daggers, and, having
arranged everything for the 26th of December, 1476, Olgiati
went to the church of St. Ambrose, threw himself at the Saint's
feet, and prayed for success. On the morning of the chosen
day the three conspirators attend divine service in the church
of St. Stephen, and recited a Latin prayer expressly composed
by Visconti : " If thou lovest justice and hatest iniquity,"
they besought the Saint, "fashion our magnanimous enter-
prise, and be not wrathful if we must presently stain thy altars
with blood, in order to free the world of a monster." The
Duke was killed, but Visconti and Lampugnani fell victims to
the fury of the populace, who wished to revenge their own
executioner. Olgiati sought safety in flight, but was soon
captured and condemned to a cruel death. When shattered by
torture, he called to his aid the shades of the Romans, and
commended his soul to the V^irgin Mary. Being urged to repent,
he declared that had he to die ten times over amid those tortures,
ten times would he cheerfully consecrate his blood to so heroic a
deed. Up to his last moments he continued to compose Latin
epigrams, congratulating himself when they were neatly turned ;
and as the headsman drew near, his last words were : — " Collige
t€y Hieronyme^ stahit vetus mcmoria factt\ Mors acerha fama
i>erpctj(ay * Here we see that while all political feeling was
extinguished in the people, there were a few individuals in whom
Christian and profane sentiments, love of liberty, and ferocious
personal hatred, heroic resignation and unquenchable thirst for
blood, vengeance, and glory, were all mingled in the strangest
way. Ruins of old systems and remains of various civilizations

' Machiavelli says instead : Mors acerba^fama perpeiua^ stabit v€iu% memoria
facti, *• Stone," vol. ii. lib. vii. p. 203. Olgiati's confession is found in Corio.
See also Rosmini's ** Storia di Milano," vol. iii. p. 23 ; Gregorovius, " Geschichte
der Stadt Rom " (zweite Auflage), vol. vii. p. 241 and fol. ; '• Cola MontanOt
Studii storicl " di Gerolamo Lorenzi Milan, 1875.

FLORENCE,

3^

rtvere confused together in the Italian mind, while the germ was
budding of a new individual and social form^ which had as yet
no well-defined outline. Later, Lodovico il Moro, the late Duke's
brother, an ambitious, timid, restless man, usurped his nephew
Galeazzo*s dominions, and, to keep up his unjustly acquired

t power, threw all Italy into confusion, as we shall have occasion
to notice, when, after examining the condition of the different
States, we give a general glance at the whole Peninsula. ;

k

2. Fhrcnce,

IF
An

The history of Florence shows us a condition of things widely
different from that of Milan. At first sight it seems as though
we were plunged in a huge chaos of confused events of
which we can understand neither the reason nor the aim. But
on closer examination we find a clue, and can perceive how
the Florentine Republic, amid an infinite series of revolu-
tionary changes, and every political institution known to the
t Middle Ages, steadily aimed at the trnyp->p]i nf th^ f] en-|ocrary ,
the tota l destrurtiori of f^Mnialism^ and achieved these objects by
meanspLGlano rl^lb Brlla^f Qr^r*amrn(i ^**^^*^ f^'usrh'sr^^^ in the
yeai\ii^^. From that date Florence bcxrame exdu&£¥ely a^city
of traders, was no longer divided between nobles and burgliers,
3ut between fa^ people and small people {popoifj grasso and
^ po polo mt nuio\ into major and minor arts or guilds. Of these,
t^ Jbr^ gr were engaged in nrhnlf¥iftlg cgmmrr pe; ag d t^^ ^reat

Ibusmess of exportation and importatioi>, while theUafJter carried
6n the retail traffic and internal trade of the city. From this
arose division and often collision of interests, and thence the for-
mation of new political parties. Whenever it was a question oi
aggrandizing the territory of the Republic ; of making war upon
Pisa to keep open the way to the sea, or upon Sienna to mono-
polize trade with Rome ; or of repulsing the continual and
threatening attacks of the Visconti of Milan, government
invariably fell int o the hand s of the Arti Maggiori, who were
rictyej^, more ent(^pjisiag and better able to comprehend and
guard the important interests of the State beyond its boundaries.
But, whecrwarjvg^ at an end, and peace^re^estab linked, then im-
mediately the Arti Minori, -Spurred on by the lowest populace,
rose in rebellion against the new aristocracy of wealth which

32 INTRODUCTION.

oppressed them with continual wars and taxes, and demanded
increased liberty and more general equality.

These continual alternations lasted mo re than a century , namely,
[own to the time when the territory of the K epublic wa s^consti-
tuted, and the prolonged wars with Milan cami^ t0JSUX_end. Then
'the figal tiji-imph of thn mino r guild s became jnnritablr, trnd it
was their inexperience and w»^*fT»ppr^rp t^^^ cmr>r.fVi^f^ ^-^^ ^ay
for tjic establishment of the tyranny t)f the Medici.

It would J^ however, be a mistake to imagine that the Medici rose
to power by the same means and artifices employed by the Vis-
conti and the Sforza. Had any one arbitrarily attempted to torture
the citizens of Florence, to bury any of them alive, or to have
them torn to pieces by dogs, as did the Lords of Milan, he would
have been instantly swept away by the popular indignation, and by
the union of the Greater and Lesser guilds. The importance and
political speciality of the Medici consisted precisely in the fact that
their victory was the result of traditional rules of conduct carried
out by that family, for more than a century, with unrivalled con-
stancy and acuteness, so that they contrived to consolidate their
power without having recourse to violence. And to have succeeded
in this in a city so acute, so restless, so jealous of its ancient liber-
ties, was a proof of true political genius. As far back as 1378,
during the disorderly revolt of the Ciompi, we find the hand of
Salvestro di Medici, who, although belongin g to the greater g uilds,,
assisted and spurred on the lesser to overthrow.-their_£Ower, thus
achieving great popularity. That tumult being suppressed, and
war having again broken out — the greater guilds and the Albizzi
family being therefore once more in power — we find Vieri dei
Medici leading a quiet life, always devoted to money-making. He
never ceased, however, to show himself favourable to the popular
party, in which he contrived to gain so much influence that
Machiavelli said of him : — " That, had he been more ambitious
than good, he might, without hindrance, have made himself
master of the city." *

But Vieri understood too well the temper of the times, and was
content to wait and prepare the way for Giovanni di Bicci, who
was the true political founder of his house. This latter clearly
saw the impossibility of changing the government of Florence by
violent means, and that no object was to be gained by holding
power, even repeatedly, in a Republic which changed its chief
' Machiavelli, " Storie," vol. i. lib. iii. p. 193.

FLORENCE,

Z^

magistrates every two months. There was but one method of
obtaining real and assured predominance^ namely, hy marshalling
under his orders a party of sufficient strength and prudence to
guarantee the highest offices of the Republic to its own adherents
in perpetuity. And the Albizii had soon occasion to perceive that

(this design was prospering, for their adversaries— notwithstanding
perpetual admonishments and sentences of exile — were always
elected in increasing numbers. In vain the former attempted to
countermine Giovanni dei Medici'^ work by itiopportune proposals
of laws intended to weaken the fxsser Guilds, for they could not
jget them passed in Council without their adversary's help, and
this he openly refused them, thus continually increasing his power
with the people {1426). It was Giovanni dei Medici who proposed
and supported the law of Catasto^^ by which it was ordained that
} the amount of every citizen's possessions should be verified and
registered, a law which prevented the powerful from levying taxes
Vgjd libitum to the oppression of the weak. The law was carried,
[the authority of tht; Medici was thereby much increased, and,
I'white really making a rapid flight towards power, they seemed to
|be wholly intent on giving a more demf^cratic form to the
Republic, This, both then and afterwards, was their favourite
ievice.

When Cosimo dei Medici succeeded his father in 1429, he was
forty years of age, and being already a man of great authority and
fortune on his own account, found his way clear before him. He
had largely increased his paternal inheritance by commerce, and
he used his means so generously, lending and giving on all sides,
that there was hardly any man of weight in Florence who had
sought and received help from him in moments of need.
Thus, without ever laying aside, at all events in appearance, the
aodesty of the private citizen, every day saw the increase of his
ifluence, which was employed by him to destroy the last remains
the power of the Albizzi and their friends. These, goaded to
lesperation, rose in rebellion, and drove him into exile, not daring
|o do worse (1433). But Cosimo still preserved his prudent calm,
went to Venice in the attitude of a benefactor repaid by in-
ratitude, and was everywhere received like a prince. The follovv-
ag year a popular rev^olt, fomented by a countless number of those
^hom he had benefited^ — or who hoped for benefits on the fall of
Upon this point there has been much controversy. Vide " Archivio Storico
ItalianOt^' series v. vol. i. p. 1 85.

VOL. L 4

34

INTRO D UCTION.

the Albizzi — recalled him to Florence. If powerful at his depar-
ture, he was much more powerful on his return > and was, moreover,
animated by a spirit of revenge. He now threw aside his former
reserve in order to profit by the favourable moment. Without
shedding too much blood, he thoroughly broke up the adverse
party by means of persecution and exile, abasing the great and
exalting men " of low and vile condition/* ' To those who
accused him of excess, and of ruining too many citizens, he was
accustomed to answer : that States could not be governed by
paternosters, and that with a few dis of crimson cloth, new and
worthy citizens could easily be manufactured.*

Cosimo dei Medici was now de facto master of Florence, but he
was still, de jure^ a private citizen^ whose power, based solely and
wholly on his personal influence, might fail at any moment.
Therefore^ he set to work to consolidate it, by a method as novel
as it was sagacious. He brought about the creation of a BaOa^
empowered to elect chief magistrates for a term of five years.
Composed of citizens devoted to himself, this Balia secured his
position for a long time ; and by having it renewed every five
years in the same way, he was able to solve the strange problem
of being for all the rest of his life, Prince and absolute master of
a Republic, without ever holding any public office^ or discarding
the semblance of a private citizen. This did not, however, pre-
vent him from occasionally having recourse to bloodshed. When
he beheld in the city the daily increasing power of Neri dei Gino
Capponi, that sagacious politician and valiant soldier, who had the
support of Baldaccio d^Anghiari, Captain of the infantry forces,
Cosimo, not daring to attack him openly, determined to do
so through his friends. Accordingly, no sooner was a personal
enemy of Baldaccio elected Gonfalon iere, than, during a sudden
tumult, Baldaccio was thrown from a window of the palace of the
Signoria ; and all men suspected, though none could prove, that
Cosimo was the chief instigator of the crime J But after this he
continued to govern with what were then called modi civilly or
gentle means, and which were always the device of the Medici,

* Guiccinrdini, *' Storia di Firenze/* p. 6.

'He tncMiit by this that given the cloth necessary for robes of office, all men
could lie citizens,

3 Machiavelli, who in his " Storie Floremine '* frequently tries to exculpate the
Medici, considers the Gonfalonier Bart olommeo OrLindini sole author of the crime.
GuicciArdmi, on the contrary, who in his ** Storia di Fircnxe,'^ judges the Medici
much more impartially, attributes everything to Cosimo.

FRANCESCO SFOR7.A.

FLORENCE,

35

hough possessed of but Httle culture^ this sagacious mtTchant,

nailed to his office desk, this unscrupulous politician^ surrounded

himself with artists and men of letters. Frugal to meanness In his

personal expenditure^ he lavished treasures in encouraging the fine

:s, \VL constructing churches, libraries, and other public edifices :

e passed the most delightful hours of his life in listening to and

commenting on Plato's ** Dialogues ; *' he founded the Platonic

Academy. Thus it is in great measure owing to him that

Florence now became the principal centre of European culture.

He had divined that in modern society, arts, letters, and science

ere becoming a power which every government ought to take

into account.

Nor was his foreign policy less sagacious. Having protected
icholas and helped him with money when he was a Cardinal, he
Found him most friendly as Pope ; and thus the business aflfairs
f the Curia were entrusted to the Medici^s bank in Rome, no
little to their profit. Sooner than other men, Cosimo had fore-
seen the future destiny of Francesco Sforxa, and had gained his
iendship : so that the latter on becoming Lord of Milan, proved
powerful and faithful ally. Then the continual wars with Milan
ine to an end, and Florence owed to Cosimo a long enduring
leace. So it is not surprising if, after his death, the rule of the
edici still going on, he should be styled Pater patriae. Machia-
Velli declares that he was the most renow^ned citizen, ** for a
i\'ilian '* " d^uomo disarmato ** that Florence, or any other city,

I ever possessed. In his opinion, no man ever equalled Cosimo in
political insight, for he discerned evils from afar, and provided
against them in time ; thus he was able to hold the State for
Uiirty-one years, '* through so great variety of fortune, in so rest-
less a city, with citizens of so changeable a temper.** (** In tanta
variety di fortuna, in si varia citt^, e volubile cittadinanza/') '
Nor was the equally authoritative opinion of Guicciardini different
from this. Yet under his course of policy all the old Florentine
institutions were reduced to empty names, without one new one
springing up ; thus continual vigilance and an inexhaustible series
of ever fresh contrivances were required to carry on the machinery
of the Sute. /(

The last years of Cosimo*s life passed very dismaHy for Flor-
ence, .since the adherents of the Medici, no longer restrained by
the prudence of their chief, who was now overcome by the infirmi-

* Machiavel!i, ** Storie/* vqT. li. pp, 14S-52.

36

INTRO D UCTION,

ties of age, began to show their partizanship ; and to persecute
and exile their enemies to excess. Nor were things changed
during the short rule of Cosimo's s(m Picro. But at his death
(1469), Lorenzo and Giuliano appeared upon the scene : and the
first of these, though only twenty-one years old^ was already
a notable personage. Educated by the first men of letters of
the age» he had proved himself the equal of many of them
in wit and learning ; in travelling through Italy to visit the
diflTcrent courts and gain experience of mankind^ he had left
everywhere a great opinion of his talents. He resolutely seized
the reins of government, and foreseeing that the election of the
new Baha would not be certain in the Council of the Hundred,
he managed, with the help of his most trustworthy friends, and
as if by surprise^ to have the Signori in office and the old Balia
empowered to elect the new. Ha\ing in this manner secured
a five years* term of power» he was able to set to work without
anxiety.

Lorenzo inherited his grandfather^s political sagacity and far
surpassed him in talent and literary culture. In many respects
too he was a ver^^ different man, Cosimo never left his business
office ; Lorenzo neglected it, and had so little commercial aptitude
that he was obliged to retire from business, in order to prescr%'e
his abundant patrimony. Cosimo was frugal in his personal
expenses and lent freely to others : Lorenzo loved splendid living,
and thus gained the title of the Magnificent ; he spent im-
moderately for the advancement of literary men ; he gave himself
up to dissipation which ruined his health and shortened his days.
His manner of living reduced him to such straits, that he had to
sell some of his possessions and obtain money from his friends.
Nor did this suffice ; for he even meddled with the public money^
a thing that had never happened in Cosimo*s time. Very often,
in his greed of unlawful gain, he had the Florentine armies paid
by his own bank \ he also appropriated the sums collected in the
Monte Comum or treasury of the public debt, and those in the
Monte delle F*ancinlk% where marriage portions were accumulate4
by private savings^moneys hitherto held sacred by all.

Stimulated by the same greed, he, in the year 1472, joined the
Florentine contractors for the wealthy alum mines of Volterra, at
the moment in which that city was on the verge of rebeUion in
order to free itself from a contract which it deemed unjust. And
Lorenzo, with the weight of his authority, pushed matters to such

FLORENCE.

37

»

I

a point that war broke out, soon to be followed by a most cruel
sack of the unhappy city, a very unusual event in Tuscany.' For
all this he was universally blamed. But he was excessively
haughty, and cared for no man : he would tolerate no equals,
would be first in everything — even in games. He interfered in
all matters^ even in private concerns and in marriages : nothing
could take place without his consent. In overthrowing the
pow^erful and exalting men of low condidon, he showed none of
the care and precaution so uniformly observed by Cosimo.

It is not then surprising if his enemies increased so fast as to
lead to that formidable conspiracy of the Pazzi of the 26th of April,
1478. In this plot, hatched in the V' atican itself where Sixtus IV.
was Lorenzo's decided enemy, many of the mightiest Florentine
families took part. In the cathedral, at the moment of the
elevation of the Host, the conspirators' daggers were unsheathed.
Giuliano del Medici was stabbed to death, but Lorenzo defended
himself wuth his sword and saved his own life. The tumult was
so great that it seemed as though the walls of the church were
shaken. The populace rose to the cry of Palie I Pa He I the
Medici watchword, and the enemies of the Medici were slaughtered
in the streets or hung from the windows of the Palazzo Vecchio.
There, among others, were seen the dangh'ng corpses of Arch-
bishop Salviati and of Francesco Pazzi, who, gripping each other
with their teeth in their last struggle, retained that posture
for a time. More than seventy persons perished that day, and
Lorenzo, taking advantage of the opportunity, pushed matters
to extremity by his confiscations, banishments, and sentences of
death- Thereby his power would have been infinitely increased
if Pope Sixtus IV., blinded by rage, had not been induced to
excommunkate Florence, and make war against it, in conjunction
with Ferdinand of Aragon. On this Lorenzo, without losing a
moment, went straight to Naples, and made the king understand
bow much better It would serve his interests for Florence to have
but one ruler, instead of a republican government always liable
to change and certainly never friendly to Naples. So he returned
with peace re-established and boundless authority and popularity.
Now indeed he might have called himself lord of the city, and
it must have seemed easy to him to destroy the republican govern-
ment altogether. With his pride and ambition it is certain that

■ Vide^ among other Florentine historians of the lime, the ** Cronache Voltcr
rane," piiblUhed bj' Tabarrini in llic *' *\ichivio Stodco/' vol. iil. p. 317 and fuL

38 INTRODUCTION.

he had an intense desire to stand on the same level with the other
princes and tyrants of Italy, the more so as at that moment
success seemed entirely within his grasp. But Lorenzo showed
that his political shrewdness was not to be blinded by pros-
perity, and knowing Florence well, he remained firm to the
traditional policy of his house, />., of dominating the Republic,
while apparently respecting it.

He was well determined to render his power solid and durable ;
and to that end had recourse to a most ingenious reform, by
means of which, without abandoning the old path, he thoroughly
succeeded in his aim.

In place of the usual five-yearly Balla, he inst;;ituted, in 1480,
the Council of Seventy, which renewed itself ahd resembled a
permanent Balla with still wider powers. This, composed of men
entirely devoted to his cause, secured the government to him for
ever. By this Council, say the chroniclers of the time, liberty
was wholly buried and undone,' but certainly the most important
affairs of the State were carried on in it by intelligent and culti-
vated men, who largely promoted the general prosperity. Florence
still called itself a republic, the old institutions were nominally
still in existence, but all this seemed and was no more than an
empty mockery. Lorenzo, absolute lord of all, might certainly
be called a tyrant, surrounded by lackeys and courtiers — whom
he often rewarded by entrusting them with the management of
charitable funds ; — leading a life of scandalous immorality, keeping
up continual and general espionnagc ; interfering in the most
private affairs ; forbidding marriages between persons of condition
that were not to his taste, and bestowing the most important
offices on the lowest men, who thus, as Guicciardini puts it, ** had
become rulers of the roast." ^ Yet he dazzled all men by the
splendour of his rule, so that the same writer observes, that
though Lorenzo was a tyrant, " it would be impossible to imagine
a better and more pleasing tyrant."

Industry, commerce, public works had all received a mighty
impulse. In no city in the world had the civil equality of modern
States reached the degree to which it had attained not merely in

' *• Diarii di Alamanno Rinuccini," published by Ajazzi, P'lorence, 1840, pp.
cx-xii. In the "Archivio Storico," vol. i. pp. 315 and fol., are the two Pro-
visions that instituted the Council of Seventy, published and annotated by the
Marchese Gino Capponi.

' ** Storia Fiorentina," chap. ix. p. 91.

FLORENCE,

39

Florence itself^ but in its whole territory and throughout all
I Tuscany, Administration and secular justice proceeded regularly
' enough in ordinary cases, crime was diminished^ and above all,
literary culture had become a substantial element of the new
State. Learned men were employed in public offices, and from
Florence spread a light that ilkiminated the world. Lorenzo,
with his \aried and well-cultivated talents, his keen penetration
and unerring judgment in all departments of knowledge, was no
ordinary patron and Maecenas ; he stood among the first Hteratt
of his age, and took an active part in the labours he promoted,
not only in the interests of his government^ but also from real
and undoubted intellectual taste. Nevertheless^ in order to turn
letters to pohtical uses, he endeavoured by his festivals and his
camivalesque songs to enervate and corrupt the people, and
succeeded only too well. Thus, without an army^ without the
lawful command of the State, he was master of Florence and of
Tuscany, and moreover exercised immense influence over aU the
Italian potentates. His enemy; Sixtus IV. ^ was dead. Pope
Innocent VIIL was not only his friend^ but married a relation
into his family, bestowed a CardinaFs hat on his infant son
Giovanni^ and always turned to him for advice. The inex-
tinguishable hatred that burned between Lodovic the Moor and
Ferdinand of Aragon, a hatred which threatened to set all Italy
ablaze, was held in bounds by Lorenzo — for that reason rightly
called the balancing needle of Italy — and it was not till after his
death that it led to fatal consequences. His political letters,
frequently examples of political wisdom as well as elegance, were
pronounced by the historian Guicciardini to be among the most
eloquent of the age.

But Lorenzo*s policy could found nothing that was permanent.
Unrivalled as a model of sagacity and prudence, it promoted
in Florence the development of all the new elements of which
modern society was to be the outcome, without succeeding in
fusing them together ; for his was a policy of equivocation and
deceit, directed by a man of much genius, who had no higher
aim than his o\\n interest and that of his family, to which he
never hesitated to sacrifice the interests of his people.

40

INTRODUCTION.
1. Venice.

The history of Venice stands in apparenily direct contradictioa
with that of Florence. The latter^ in fact, i^hows us a series of
revolutions which, starting from an aristocratic government,
reached the extreme point of democratic equality, only to fall
later under the de.spotism of a single head ; while V^enice, on the
contrary, proceeded with order and firmness to the formation of
an increasingly powerful aristoc^ac)^ Florence vainly sought to
preserve liberty by too frequent changes of magistrates ; Venice
elected the Doge ft>r life, rendered a seat in the Grand Council
an hereditary honour, firmly established the Republic, became %
great power, and retained her liberty for many centuries* This
enormous divergence, however, is not only easily explained, but
is much reduced in our eyes when we examine the special con-
ditions amid which the Venetian Republic grew into shape.
Founded by Italian r^ugees, who settled in the lagoons to escape
the tide of barbarian invasion, it was exposed but little^ if at all^
to the influence of Feudalism and the other Germanic laws and
institutions which had so widely penetrated into many parts of
Italy, Thus in Venice from the very beginning there were seen
opposed to each other the people engaged in industry and com-
merce and the old Italian families, who without the support of
the empire, or the strength of the feudal order, were very easily
overruled and conquered.

An aristocracy of wealth was quickly formed, and these new
nobles had no difficulty in taking possession of the government
and holding it for even This triumph which, in Florence, was
the slow result of many and frequent struggles, was in Venice
as permanent as it was rapid. From the first, the prosperity of
the lagoons w*as entirely dependent upon the distant expeditions
and far-spreading commerce which everywhere formed the
strength of the burghers or pop^io ^asso. Then, while on the
one hand the energies of the people or popoio minuto were em-
ployed for many months of the year in lengthy voyages, on the
other the government of the colonies gave opportunities of com-
mand to the more ambitious citizens, without any danger to the
Republic*

Thus the Venetian Constitution, in its first origin but little
different from that of other Italian Communes, went on from
change to change owning to the widely difi"erent conditions by

VENICE.

which it was surrounded. From the beginning the Doge was
elected for life, because the city being dinded in many islands,
all tending to render themselves independent of one anotheri the
need of greater centralization was soon made manifest. But the
Doge was surrounded by nine citizens who composed the Signaria^
and there were, as in other cities, two Councils, the Senate or
Pregati^ and the Grand Council, On solemn occasions, an appeal
was made to the people collected in a public assembly called
Arrengo, answering to the Parliament of Florence. Had things
stood still at this point, the Venetian Constitution, with the
exception of the Doge for life, would not have been radically
difTerent from that of Florence. But the far greater strength
quickly acquired by the aristocracy of wealth, for the reasons
above mentioned, gradually concentrated nearly all the po%ver of
the State in the Grand Council, which, on the abolition of the
Arrengo and the narrowing of the Doge's authority, was the true
sovereign power^ and became hereditary through a series of slow
reforms between the years 1297 and 1319, leading to what was
called the Set rata of the Grand Council Thus the circle was
closed, and government was in the hands of a powerful aristocracy
that later on instituted a Golden Book.

But although here^ in Venice, there was no feudal principle to
be fought against, these reforms were not carried without much
opposition on the part of the old families, who, seeing themselves
excluded from the government, sought and found adherents
aong the lowest classes. The conspiracy of Tiepolo Baiamonte
it3io) was formidable enough for a few days to place the very
existence of the republic in extremity of periL But after a fierce
conflict within and without the city, it was suffocated in blood-
shed, and followed by the creation of the Council of Ten, a
terrible tribunal which, by summary trials, but always in accord-
ance with the laws, punished by death every attempt at revolt.
Then, indeed, all danger was warded off from the aristocratic
government^ and it daily gained fresh strength. The solidity of
Venetian institutions favoured the progress of Venetian commerce,
and increased riches gave courage for new undertakings in the
East, the field of Venetian glory and Venetian gain.

In the East the republic had encountered two powerful
rivals, Pisa and Genoa ; but the maritime power of the
Pisans was shattered at the Meloria (1384) by the Genoese,
who in their turn after a long and sanguinary struggle

4*

IN TROD UCTION,

were irreparably defeated b\' the Venetians at Chioggia in
1380. And thus by the end of the fourteenth century Venice
was free from all rivals^ mistress of the seas, in the enjoyment
of internal security, and most prosperous in commerce. Then
she aspired to conquest on the mainland, and entered upon a
second period of her history, during which she found herself
involved in all the intrigues of Italian politics, lost her primitive
character of an exclusively maritime power, and began to be
corrupt. Hence the weighty accusations brought against her
by contemporaries and posterity alike, but it was irresistible
necessity that had forced her into the new path. In fact, when
great States were springing up on all sides^ the dominion of the
lagoons was no longer secure, and it was no longer enough to
watch over her own commerce on the mainland. The Scaligeri,
the Visconti, the Carrara, the Este, detested the thriving Republic.
They threatened it and isolated it in its own lagoons precisely
when it most needed new markets for its superior wares ; for its
trade with the East which was only to be fed by that with the
West. And when the Turks advanced and began to check the
conquests of the Republic and threaten its colonies for other
reasons, this need became still more pressing.

It is true that Venice was then attacked by a thousand dangers
on both sides ; but these dangers were inevitable, and she met
them, fighting by land and by sea, with heroic ardour, and at
first with unexpected good fortune, Venice certainly was some-
what unscrupulous in promoting her new interests ; often com-
pelled in Italy to combat disloyal enemies, she too made use of
violence and fraud. Yet it was never the personal caprice of an
individual subjecting all things to his own will ; it was a patriotic
aristocracy giving its blood for its country. In the fifteenth
century' the first to feel the claws of the lion of St. Mark were the
Carrara, lords of Padua, who were strangled to death in 1403,*^
After that, Venice sent to Padua a Rector for civil, and a Captain
for military affairs, leaving intact all old laws and local institutions.
The same took place^ or had already taken place, in Friuli, Istria^
Vicenza, Verona, Treviso. It was a very intelligent and liberal
policy for those times ; but with their independence, the new
subjects lost for ever all hope of liberty. The conquered terri-
tories certainly derived great advantages from being under a
strong and just government and sharing in the immense trade of
Venice ; but although material well-being might make the mul-

VENICE,

43

titude forget their love of liberty and independence, there remained
in all the powerful families who had held or hoped to hold rule,
an intense hatred for the new tyrant, who was envied for the
stabihty and strength of her government, and considered the
most formidable enemy of all the other Italian States.

She proceeded on her course of conquest, and the fifteenth
century, in which Italy began rapidly to decline, seemed on the
contrary to open to Venice an era of increased prosperity. Her
nobles had made men forget the irregularity of their origin, by
the enormous sacrifices they had made for their country^ and by
the valour they had shown in the naval battles in which they
commanded. Absorbed in p^ilitical life, they freely left to the
people all commt^rce and industry, which prospered miraculously
under the shelter of a fijced government and victorious arms.

Even the advance of the Turks, which later wrought such
terrible harm on the republic, seemed at this period almost to
turn to its advantage. In fact, many islands of the archipelago^
and other States^ finding themselves in great danger through the
impotence of the Greek Empire to defend them from the terrible
hurricane that was drawing near^ invoked the protection of Venice
and gave themselves into her hands. Thus her dominions were
enlarged and fresh subjects acquired, ready to pour out their
blood in combating the common enemy, who, in the earlier en-
counters, suffered very heavy losses. All these things helped to
rouse the spirit of the Venetians, who at this time believed them-
selves destined to be the bulwark of Christendom and the
dominant power in Italy. Throughout their political dealings,
in the correspondence of their ambassadors, in their continual
wars by sea and land, patriotic feeling over-ruled every other, and
inspired a noble boldness, of language in citizens who were ever
ready to lay down their lives for their country. The honour, the
glory of Venice, was always their dominant motive ; and in their
struggle against the advancing Turks they gave continued proofs
of heroism. When the Venetian fleet encountered its formidable
enemy near GalHpoli, in May, 1416, Pietro Loredano, its com-
mander, wTOte to his government : *' Boldly did I, the captain,
crash against the foremost of the enemy^s galleys, full of Turks,
who fought like dragons. Surrounded on all sides, wounded by
an arrow which had passed through my jaw beneath the eye, by
another through my hand, as also by many more, I did not cease
from fighting, nor would I have ceased till death. I capttu'ed the

44

INTRO D UCTION.

first galley and planted ray flag upon it. The Turks who were oo
board were cut to pieces^ the rest of the fleet routed.'' ■ Venice
alone, in the Italy of the fifteenth ceotiiry, was capable of enter-
priser so daring and language so frank. The little republic of the
lagoons had become one of the greatest potentates of Europe,
But the dangers closing in around her were immense and waxing
greater on all i^ide.s.

The Doge Tommaso Mocenigo foresaw these dangers, and on
his death-bed, in April, 1423, prayed and entreated his friends not
to be tempted to undertake wars and conquests, and above all not
to elect as his successor Francesco Foscari, whose immoderate
ambition would certainly drag them into the most audacious and
perilous enterprises. But these prudent counsels were uttered in
vain. Filippo Maria Visconti was then threatening all Northern
and Central Italy ; the Turks were on the advance. Francesco
Foscari was duly elected, and he certainty was not the man to
bring back into harbour a vessel already launched on the open
sea. No sooner did the Florentines implore help against tlie
Visconti, than he exclaimed in the Senate : — ^** Were I at the end
of the world and saw a people in danger of losing its liberty, I
would hasten to its assistance.^* ** Nu patiremo che Filippo tuoga
la liberty ai Fiorentini ? Sto furibondo tiran scorrer^ per tutta
Italia, la struggeri e conqoassera senza gastigo?**^ Thus, in
1436J began the formidable struggle which, frequently interrupted
and renewed, only ended with the death of Visconti in the year

1447'

In these tw^enty-one years Foscari showed a truly Roman
patriotism and energy, struggling against external and internal
dangers of every kind. Each year the Visconti^s treasures enabled
him to bring fresh armies iiito the field, and the Venetian Republic
was always ready to meet them. Carmagnola, who had come
ovtT to the Venetians, gave cause for suspicion immediately after
his first victories, and was, without hesitation , brought to a regular
I* trial and condemned to death. On the 5th of May, 1432, cum una
I sprangha in hue ha ^ ct cum maiithns ifgafjs dc retro Jux fa solititm^^
he was led between the columns of the Piazzetta and there be-
headed. In 1430 there was an attempt against the Doge^s life, and

* Romanin (**Storia documentala di Venezia/' vol. iv. lib. x. chap. 3) quates
from Sanulo all this account, af which we have given a brief summary.

* Romanin, ** Storia doaim«ntala di VL"iie2ia," vol, iv, p. 108.
5 The words of ihe sentence as given by Romanin»

VENICE.

45

I

I

in 1433 a conspiracy against liis government : the Ten brought
swift and exemplary justice to bear upon the guilty parties. Later»
at the instigation of the Visconti, the last of the Carrara tried to
reconquer his lost dominions, and persuaded Ostasio da Polenta,
lord of Ravenna, to throw off his allegiance to Venice. Carrara
lost his head between the columns of the Piazzetta (1435)^ Polenta
died in exile at Crete, and Ravenna was added to the V^enelian
territory. After Visconti^s death, and shortly after the cessation
of hostilities with Milan, there occurred the fall of Constantinople
(i453)t in which so many Italians, especially VenetianS| lost their
lives. This event, marking a new epoch in the history of Eur ope^
was a mortal blow to Venice. Yet» in 14541 ^^^ succeeded in
making a treaty^ which ensured free trade to her subjects, and
gave her time to prepare for new conflicts.

But the chief danger to the Republic sprang from the fresh
germs of corruption, now beginning to threaten it with internal
discord, Foscari^s enemies^ not content with having plotted
against his life and his government, now assailed him by bitter
persecution of his last surviving son, Jacopo, a man of very
frivolous character, but blindly beloved by his father. Exiled, in
1445, for having accepted gifts^ which the laws strictly forbade to
the Doge*s son, he, after having obtained pardon, was again con-
demned to exile in Canea in 1451, for supposed connivance in the
assassination of one of his former judges. Recalled from his place
of exile in 1456, he was subjected to a fresh trial, for having
maintained a secret correspondence with the Duke of Milan, and
condemned to a longer term of banishment. Entering the prison,
the old Doge, unmoved by the sight of his son imploring pardon
at his feet, exclaimed \ — ** Go^ obey the will of thy country^ and
seek for nought else.^' But hardly had he tottered from the
prison, leaning on his staff, than he fell into a swoon.* Shortly
afterwards Jacopo Foscari died in exile (12th January, 1457), and
the paternal heart of the man^ who had sustained with an iron
resolution, a gigantic struggle in defence of the Republic, broke
down under the persecutions heaped upon his son» Aged, worn
out, crushed, he had no longer the strength required to coo-
duct State affairs, and to defend himself from his enemies. On
being invited to resign, and refusing to do so, he was formally
deposed. His ring having been broken off, the ducal cap removed

* '* Diarit " di Marin Sanuto, and the ** Cronaca " of Delfin. See the fragments
cited by Ramamn, vol. iv. p. 286, and fol.

46 INTRODUCTION.

from his head, he calmly descended the same stairs by which he
had mounted on his accession to the Dogeship, quietly conversing

with those xvho were near^ and without accepting any offered
arm. His successor was elected on the 30th October, and he died
of a broken heart on the ist of November, after a thirty-four years*
reign. Francesco Foscari was certainly one of the greatest political
characters of his time.' With him^ Venice attaint the height of
her power ; after him she soon began to decline, though remaining
heroic even in decay.

Forsaken by all the rest of Italy, she was left alone to confront
the Turks, who were advancing with formidable forces. The
sopra-cnmito (or admiral) Girolamo Longo wrote in 1468 that the
Turkish fleet which he had to encounter was of four hundred sail,
and six miles in length, ** The sea seemed a forest. This may
seem an incredible thing to hear, but it is a marvellous thing to
behold ; . , . now see if by stratagem it be possible to gain as
advantage. Men and not words are what is required/' ' These
seem almost like accents of fear beside those words of Loredano,
which we have already quoted* TimeSj in fact^ were changed :
the Republic continued to send forth fresh fleets, which fought
heroically \ it organized the resistance of all Christian populations,
who freely gave their blood for the cause ; it sent arms and money
to the Persians, so that they too might aid to check the threaten-
ing march of Mahomet IL ; but all was in vain. Negroponte,
Caffa, Scutari, other cities and possessions, fell one after another,
in spite of their valiant defence. And at last Venice, weary of
always standing alone to combat the enemy of Christianity, in
January, 1479 made a peace, which guaranteed her own commerce,
and which, seeing the sad state to which she was reduced, might
be considered honourable. Then the rest of Italy joined in violent
abuse of Venice, the more so when their alarm reached its climax
in 1480 by the taking of Otranto by the Turks. But shortly after,
the death of Mahomet II. , and the consequent disorders at home,
recalled the Turkish invaders from our shores, and Italy thought
no more upon the subject.

From this time forward the horizon of the Republic grows
narrower and narrower. Solely occupied by material interests,

* The foiJowinjj inscription was placed u|>onhis tomb ; *^ Post mart perdomitum^
post urbes martf subadasx Fhrentem pat riam^longa^tms pact rtUqui.^*

^ This letter is in the Anitali of Malipiero, and is also quoted by Romanin,
vol. iv. pp. J3S' n^'

1

VENICE,

47

invoK^ed in the intrigues of Italian policy^ it no longer assumes
the guardianship of the Peninsula, and of all Christendom, against
the Moslem, and every fresh event of the world^s history seems to
be to the injury of Venice, The discovery of America, and of the
Cape of Good Hope, removed her from the principal highways of
commerce. Reduced on all sides^ she lost, together with her great
gains, the historical importance which had been hers as the con-
necting link between the East and the West. Now 5ihe was
reduced to snatching this or that scrap of territory from her
neighbours J and imposing on them her still great and powerful
trade. Her dominions now extended on one side to the Adda, on
the other she held Ravenna, Cervia, Rimini, Faenza, Cesena, and
Imola in the Romagna : in the Trentino she held Roveredo and
its dependencies j she had carried her arms as far as the Adriatic
coast of the Neapoh'tan kingdom, and held some lands there. But
this very fact of her having taken something from all, had gained
her the fear and hatred of all.

Then again, this vast State was all under the rule of one city,
in which but a small proportion of the citizens had a hereditary
right to command. Not even in Venice^ therefore^ was it possible
to hope for the wide and organic development of a modern State j
she remained rather as a survival of old republican institutions,
outliving itself, and condemned to perish for want of nourishment.
Meanwhile, it was still the strongest, most moral government in
Italy ; but as its circle of activity diminished, so too diminished
the magnanimous virtues, the heroic characters, born of the great
perils they had had to struggle against, and of the continual
sacrifices to which they were summoned. Instead of these, there
ensued in the ruling class an enormous growth of egotism, luxury,
and greed for gold. The jewel -loaded, satin -clad wives of the
Venetian patricians, inhabited during the fifteenth century abodes
of greater richness than any that w^rc to be found in the palaces
of Italian potentates. *' The men," say?' the Milanese ivriter Pietro
da Casola, ** were more modest and austere ; they dressed like so
many doctors of the law, and those who dealt with them had to
keep both eyes and ears wide open." * But their policy, if less
egotistical than that prevalent in the rest of Italy, was still that
of a narrow local and class interest. They looked almost with

' See the ** Viaggio '* of Brother Pietro da Casola, a Milanese, published by
G. Porro, Milan, Ripamonti, 1855* Roraanin, vol. iv, pp. 494, 495, quotes some
fragments.

4

48

INTRODUCTION.

pleasure on the ruin of Italy^ hoping thus to insure their own
power over it. And when foreign armies approached the h\^%
they allowed them free passage, in the belief that they could later
drive them back, and command in their place. The contrary
ensued ; this selfishness of theirs, which helped no man and
threatened all, led to the League of Cambrayi in which nearly
the whole of Europe arrayed itself against the little Republic,
which, in spite of its gallant resistance^ could not, as it had hoped,
secure its own safety in the midst of the general ruin of the whole
country.

4. Rome,

Amid the infinite variety of characters and institutions presented
to us by Italy in the fifteenth century, the history of Rome forms
almost a world apart. Chief centre of the interests of all Christian
lands, the Eternal City wa?^ more sensitive than any other to the
great transformations going on in Europe. The formation of
great and independent States had broken up and rendered for
ever impossible the universal unity of which the Middle Ages had
had some prevision, and had even partiallv fulfilled. The Empire
was becoming more and more re^tricted within the German fron-
tiers, and the aim of the Emperor was to strengthen his position
by settled and direct dominion within his own proper States^.
Therefore the Papacy, henceforward condemned to renounce its
pretensions to universal sovereignty in the world, felt the urgent
necessity of constituting a secure and germine temporal kingdom.
But the transfer of the Holy Seat to A\ngnon| and the long-
enduring schism had throv^m tlie States of the Church into
disorder and anarchy- Rome was a free Commune, with a similar
constitution to that of the other Italian Republics, but industry
and commerce had not flourished there, nor had its political
organism ever attained a vigorous development, chiefly in con-
sequence of the exceptional supremacy exercised by the Pope, and
the excessive power of the nobles who threw everything into
confusion. The Orsini, the Colonna, the Prefetti di Vico, were
sovereign rulers in their immense domains, in which they had
stores of arms and armed men ; they nominated judges and
notaries, and sometimes even coined money. Besides, there were
also cities who were, or were continually trying to render themselves
independent within the Roman territory, which extended from the

rigliano to the confines of Tuscany.

a

ROME.

49

Every one^ too^ can imagine to what condition the Papal sway
was reduced in cities like Bolag^ia, Urbino, Faenza, and Ancona^
all independent Republics or Lordships. Therefore, in order to
form a temporal kingdom, a war of conquest was necessary. This
Innocent VI. (1352-62) had attempted to begin, hy means of
Cardinal d'Albornoz, who, by fire and sword, bron^'^t a great
portion of the State into submission. But this boasted submission
was in fact reduced to the construction, in all principal cities, of
fortresses held in the Pope's name ; to transforming the tyrants
into vicars of tlie Church, and compelling the Republics to take
an oath of obedience, while their statutes were left intact. In
this way the Este, the Montefeltrn, the Malatesta, the Alidnsi, the
Manfredi, the Ordelaffi, were legitimate lords of F'errara, Uibino,
Imola, Rimini, Faenza, Forli j while Bologna, Fermo, Ascoli, and
other cities remained Republics. The political constitution of
Rome then began to be changed into an administrative constitu-
tion by the destruction of ancient liberties, and Popes Urban V,
and Gregory XL continued in the same path ; but the prolonged
schism in the Church again plunged everything into anarchy, and
prevented the formation of any strong government or any stable
authority.

At last, in the year 141 7, the Council of Constance put an end
to the schism, by deposing three Popes and electing Oddo Colonna,
who took the name of Martin V. Thus the history of the Papacy
enters on a new period which lasts until the beginning of the
following century, and during this time the successors of St. Peter
seem to put aside all thought of religion, and devote themselves
exclusively to the constrticiion of a temporal kingdom. Having
become exactly similar to other Italian t)Tants, they profited by
the same arts of government. Still the great diversity of their
station in the world, and the peculiar temper of the State they
tried to rule, endued their proceedings with a special character.
Generally elected at a very advanced age, the Popes suddenly
found themselves in the midst of a riotous and powerful nobility^
at the head of a disordered and loosened State, in a turbulent city
where frequently they were without adherents, and not seldom
complete strangers. Therefore to gain strength, they favoured
and enriched nephews who were often their own sons ; and thus
originated the great Church scandal, known as Nepotism, and
which specially appertains to this century. Then having once
been drawn into the tumultuous vortex of Italian politics, the

VOL. L 5

so

INTRODUCTION,

Popes found themselves conipclled to promote simukaneousli
two different interests, not uiifrequently at variance the one wi
the other ^ ix.^ the political and the religious interest. Religioi
became an instrument for the advancement of their politi
ends, and thus, though only rulers of a small State, they w<
able to turn all Italy upside down, and without succeeding in
bringing it into subjection , to keep it weak and divided until it
fell a prey to the foreigners, whom they continually called to their
aid. On the other hand, brute force and political authority were
used to keep alive the religious prestige which had no longer any
root in men's minds. Such a state of things confused all consci-
entious feehng in these representatives of God upon earth, and
made them gradually fa!! into so horrible a delirium of obscenity
and crimcj that all decency was forsaken, and the Vatican became
the scene of every imaginable orgy and outrage, of plots and
poisonings. It seemed as though the Papacy desired to extirpate
all religious feeling from the mind of man, and overthrow for e^
every basis of morality.

The first germs of this fatal corruption of the Papacy origin-
ated in the conditions in which it then was, and quickly bore
fruit under Martin V., who was, however, the best Pope of that
century. He arrived from Constance, — according to the expres-
sion of a modern writer,— like a lord without lands, so that in
Florence the street-boys followed him with jeering songs. Enter-
ing Rome on the 28th of September, 1420, with the aid of Queen
Giovanna of Naples, the Roman people, having by this time loi
all their free institutions^ presented themselves to him as
throng of beggars. War, pestilence, and famine had ravaged the
eternal city for many years ; monuments, churches, and houses
were alike in ruin ; the streets full of heaps of stones and boggy
holes ; thieves robbing and pillaging by day as well as night.
All agriculture had disappeared from the Campagna, and an im-
mense extent of land had become a desert ; the cities of the
. Roman territory were at war with each other, and the nobles, shut
up in their strongholds which were mere robbers' dens, despised all
authority, would submit to no control, no law^ and led the lives of
brigands. Martin V. set to work with firmness, and first of all
completed the destruction of Roman freedom, by changing the
city into an administrative municipality. Then many rebel
domains were subjected, many leaders of armed bands taken and
hung J order thus began to be re-established, and a form of

)ate I

'%

A

ROME.

S»

¥

:lar government inaugurated. But ihis end was attained by
the means we have alluded to above. The Pope^ to gain adherents,
threw himself entirely into the arms of his relatives, the Coloiina,
arranged wealthy marriages for them, conceded to them vast feuds
in the States of the Churchy or obtained the concession of others
equally large in the kingdom of Naplci^. In this way he increased
their already enormous power, and was the initiator of Nepotism.
In order to keep up the asserted supremacy of the Popes in the
kingdom of Naples, and get all possible advantages from it for
his own friends, he gave his support, first to Giovanna II., who
had assisted him to enter Rome ; then to Louis of Anjou, her
adversary ; lastly, to Alfonso of A r agon, who triumphed over all.
And this fatal system of policy, continued by his successors, was
the principal cause of the almost utter destruction of the Nea-
politan kingdom and of the ruin of Italy. Yet in Rome there
was seen at last some show of order and of regular government.
Streets, houses^ and monuments were partially restored ; for the
first time for many years it was possible to walk through the
city and out for some miles into the Campagna, without fear of
robbery and assassination. Therefore after the Pope^s death (20th
Feb., 143 1 ), his tomb bore the^e words : Tcmporum suorum

i/cliciias ; and the inscription cannot be said to be altogether un-
merited, especially when we consider how speedily all his sins
were thrown into the shade, hy the far greater crimes of his
successors.
Eugene IV'., who leant upon the Orsini, thereby making deadly
enemies of the Colonna, was quickly driven out of Rome by a
, revolution, and pursued with volleys of stones as he fled down the
Tiber, cowering in a boat (June, 1434). Arrived in Florence, he
had to re-establish his government over again and sent to Rome
the patriarch, afterwards Cardinal Vitelleschi, who, at the head of
armed bands, carried on with fire and sword a real war of exter-
mination. The family of the Prefetti di Vico was extinguished
by the execution of its last representative Giovanni ; that of the
Colon na was partly destroyed by the hardy prelate ; the SavelH
underwent the same fate. Many castles were razed to the ground,
many cities destroyed, and their inhabitants scattered hunger-
stricken over the Campagna where they wandered about in misery,
sometimes even offering to sell themselves for slaves. When at
last Vitelleschi, at the head of a small army, made a triumphal
entry into the Eternal City, that trembled at his feet, the Pope,

52 INTRODUCTION.

seized with suspicion, sent Scarampo, another prelate of the same
stamp, to supersede him. Vitelleschi, who attempted resistance,
was surrounded, wounded, taken prisoner, and confined in the
castle of St. Angelo, where he died. Then Eugene IV. was able
to return quietly and safely to Rome, and died three years after-
wards in 1447.

There was some singularity in the destiny of this Pope, who
finally subjected the Eternal City. While Vitelleschi and
Scarampo were shedding rivers of blood, he remained in Florence
enjoying festivals and the society of learned scholars. Without
having much culture or love of letters, he found it necessary,
when attending the Council of Florence, to employ interpreters
to discuss and treat with the representatives of the Greek Church,
and was therefore obliged to admit into the Curia learned men
who quickly overran it, not without certain noteworthy changes
in the history of .the Papacy. A solemn funeral oration in classic
Latin was recited beside his bier by the celebrated scholar Tom-
maso Parentucelli, who was chosen as his successor, without being
possessed of other merits than his erudition. He took the name
of Nicholas V., and it was a general saying that, in his person,
learning itself had ascended the chair of St. Peter. Finding the
Papal power sufficiently firm, Nicholas, who although devoid of
original talent, and also — gravest of defects in a scholar of the
fifteenth century — ignorant of Greek, but nevertheless the
greatest existing collector and arranger of ancient codices, carried
this passion with him to the Apostolic Chair, and made it the sole
object of his pontificate^ —

His dream was to convart Rome into a vast centre of learning,
into a great monumental city, with the finest library in the world.
Had it been possible, he would have transported all Florence to the
banks of the Tiber. He scattered agents all over Europe to collect ,
and copy ancient codices ; scholars of all kinds were offered large
salaries as translators, without any regard to their religious or
political opinions. Valla, who had written most noisily against
the temporal power, was one of the first to be summoned.
Stefano Porcaro, who, like Cola dei Rienzo, had become, through
his, classical studies, infatuated for the Republic, was also over-
whelmed with honours. However, after he had entered into a
conspiracy for firing the Vatican, and restoring republican institu-
tions, the Pope lost patience with him, and let him be condemned
to death. But nothing could cool the ardour of Nicholas for

ROME.

53

learning ; he thought that all things might be remedied by a few
Latin speeches, even the fall of Constantinople ; and he never
ceased to collect manuscripts and summon men of learning to
Rome. The Curia became an office for translators and copyists^
and the Vatican library was rapidly collected and enriched by
many splendidly boimd volumes. At the same time new roads were
opened, fortresses built, churches and monuments of all kinds
erected. There reigned a perfect fever of activity, for the Pope^
with the assistance of thtf first architects in the world, among whom
was Leon Battista Alberti, had conceived a design, according to
which Rome was to eclipse Florence. The leonine city was to be
transformed into a great Papal fortress, in which St. Peter's and
the Vatican were to be rebuilt from the very foundations. And
although Nicholas V. did not succeed in completing this colossal
enterprise, for which several generations would barely have
sufficed, yet he initiated it with so much ardour, that during his
reign the whole aspect of Rome was changed, and the immortal
works executed in the times of Julius IL and Leo. X. were but
the fulfilment of his own design.

On the 24th of March, 1455, Nicholas V, died the death of a true
scholar, that is, after having pronounced a Latin oration to his
Cardinals and friends, and was succeeded by Calixtus II L, a
Spaniard J and able jurist^ who had first found his way to Italy
as a political adventurer in the suite of Alphonso of Aragon.
Calixtus was already seventy-seven years of age ; he belonged to
the corrupt Spanish clergy, not yet tamed and disciplined by the

ipolitic measures of Ferdinand and Isabella, and he bore the ill-
Qmened name of Borgia ; his brief Papacy was, like a meteor,
Ihe herald of coming evils. He had no concern with codices and
scholars. With a blind cupidity, unrestrained by any trace of
iecency or sha^me, he loaded with honours, land and gold those
nephews, of whom one was destined later to assume the triple
crown under the notorious name of Alexander VL He filled the
city with Spanish adventurers, entrusting them with all duties of
dministration and police, thereby causing an enormous increase
crime. Blood was shed on all sides ; anarchy again threatened
rule in Rome, when old Calixtus died (6th August, 1458), where-
pon a sudden burst of popular indignation put the Spaniards to
ght, and the Pope's nephews themselves barely escaped with
e.
Another scholarly Pope now ascended the throne. Enea Silvio

54

INTRODUCTION.

Picxolomini, of Sienna, a man of varied and versatile talent and
character. His early life was passed in pleasure, then amid the
controversies at Basle ^ where he upheld that Councirs authority
in opposition to the Pope':< ; later, among the affairs of the im*
perial chancery in Germany, where he was the first to propagate
Italian learning, he recanted his bold doctrines, renounced his
juvenile errors, and thus was able to rise step by step in ecclesias-
tical rank until he reached the Papal Chair (roth August, 1458)^'
and assumed the name of Pius II. He still continued to study
and compose norks of merit, but he did nut patronize learned
men, as all had hoped^ employing himself instead in bestowing
offices and patronage on his relations and his Siennese friends.
Rome had «:»nce more fallen a prey to anarchy, in consequence of
the mad policy of Calixtus IIL, who, although a creature of the
Aragonese, had favoured the Angevins ; but Pius IL, with greater
shrewdness, favoured the Aragonese, and thus, assisted by them^
was able to conquer the rebels. This Pope's ruling idea was that
of a general crusade against the Turks ; only as a man of his day^
and a scholar, he was more stirred by rhetorical enthusiasm than by
religious ijeal. In Mantua, whither he invited all Christian princes
to a solemn congress (145Q), many Latin discourses were pro-
nounced ; but in point of fact this great meeting was a mere
literary display, with many high sounding promises never destined
to be carried into effect. Notwithstanding all this, the Pope wTOte
a Latin letter to Sultan Mahomet II. expecting to convert him by
that means. And when, on the contrary, fresh Greek exiles were
perpetually arriving^ ikying before the Turks, who had invaded the
Morea, and Thomas Paleologus was the bearer of the head of St.
Andrew, all Rnnie was, as it were, turned into a temple to receive
the sacred relic, which was accompanied by thirty- five thousand
torches. The Pope seized this occasion to deliver another solemn
discourse in favour of a crusade, to a sceptical people, many of
whom only felt an interest in the rt;lic because it was brought bv
persons who spoke the language of Homer,

In 1462, Pius IL had collected a large sura of money through
the unexpected discovery of rich alum mines at Tolfa, and again
took up the idea of a crusade, inviting all Christian princes to
straightway set out for the East. Old and suffering as he was,.
he caused himself to be carried in a litter to Ancona, where he
expected to find armies and fleets, intending to go with them
and bestow his blessing on their arms, like Moses when Israel

ROME,

55

fought against Amalek. But he found the port entirely empty ;
and when at last a few Venetian galleys arrived, the Pope drew
his last breath, gazing towards the East, and urging the pursuance
of the erusade (ifth August, 1464). His life, which to some
may perhaps seem a worthy subject of romance, or even of epic
narration, was in reality devoid of all true greatness. Pius II.
was a scholar of considerable talent, who wished to do some
heroic deed, without possessing hi himself the heroic element.
Although, doubtless, the most noteworthy pontiff of this century,
he had no deep convictions ; he reflected the opinions and feeble
desires of the men among whom he lived, changing perpetually,
according to the times and conditions in which he was placed.
His reign seemed to have a certain splendour, to hold out many
hopes, but he left nothing durable behind him* After popes
w^ho had established the temporal power by force, and popes
who had caused art and letters to flourish in Rome ; after Pius
IL who had not only re-established order, but had even seemingly
inaugurated a religious awakening, it might have been hoped
that a better era of peaceful security was at hand. But it was
now, on the contrary, that all passions ran riot, and the worst
crimes, the most horrible obscenities of the Papacy, were near at
hand,

Paul II,, consecrated on the 1 6th of September, 1464, approached
this period without beginning it, and we may say that he was
better than his reputation. Yet he, too, careless of learning, was
given up to the pleasures of life, and without being devoid of
political qualities, considered it a part of the art of government
to corrupt the people by festivities on which he squandered
treasures. His name has come down to posterity with hatred,
because he roughly expelled all the scholars of the Segreteria
to make room for his own adherents. And when the learned
world raised its voice still louder, and in the Roman Academy
of Pomponio Leto, speeches were made recalling those of Cola
dei Rienzo and Stefano Porcaro, he broke up the academy and
imprisoned its members. It was then that Platina, confined and
tortured in the Castle of St. Angelo, swore to have revenge,
and obtained it by depicting his persecutor as a monster of
cruelty in his "Lives of the Popes,'* a vtry widely known work.
But Paul II., without being in the least a good Pope, was not
without certain merits. He re-ordered justice, severely punishing
the bravos who filled Rome with their crimes, he had a new com-

56

INTRODUCTION,

pilation of Roman law drawn tip, he fought energetically against
the Malatesta of Rinaini, and put down the arrogance of the
Aiigxiillara familvi who owned a great part of the Campagna,
and of the territory of St. Peter. Neither must his offences be
too severely blamed when we remember the times and the men
who came after him.

The three following Popes, Sixtus IV. , Innocent VIII., and
Alexander VI., are those filling the most degraded period
in papal histor)% and proving to what a state Italy was then
reduced. The lirst of these men was a Genoese friar^ who
immediate after his election (gth August^ M7 exhibited himself
as a vit'Ient despot, devoid of all scruples and all decency. He
needed money, and therefore put up to sale offices, benefices, and
indulgences. He showed a downright mania for the advancement
of his nephews, some of whom were, according to the general
verdict, his own sons. One of these, Pietro Riario, was made
Cardinal, with an income of sixty thousand crowns, and plunged
so desperately into luxury, dissipation, and debauchery of all
kinds, that he soon died, worn out by his vices, and overwhelmed
with debts. The other brother, Girolamo, as zealously patronized,
led the same sort of life. The Pope's whole policy was ruled by
his greed of fresh acquisitions for his sons and nephews. It was
solely because Lorenzo dri Medici had crossed these designs that
the conspiracy of the Pazzi was hatched in the Vatican, and that
on its failure the Pope made war upon Florence, and launched
a sentence of excommunication against that city. Later, he
joined the Venetians in their expedition against Ferrara, always
with the same object of snatching some province for his family.
A general war was the result, in which even the Neapolitans
took part, by making an attack upon Rome, where fresh feuds
among the nobility quickly broke out. Roberto Malatesta, of
Rimini, was summoned to the defence of the eternal city, and
when he died of a low fever, contracted during the war, the
Pope tried to recompense his services by despoiling his heir of
his State, This design, however, the Florentines managed to
defeat.

The Pope, perceiving his danger, now changed his policy,
and joined the Neapolitans against Ferrara and the Venetians,
since these latter seemed disposed to conduct the war solely for
their own advantage. He tlien began to re%^enge himself upon
the nobles, especially the Coionna. Girolamo Riario, the blood-

ROME.

57

thirsty^ commanded the artillery, — which had beeo blessed by
the Pope — gained possession of the Castle of Marino by promising
to spare the life of his prisoner the Protonotary Lorenzo Colonna,
and nevertheless caused his head to be cut off. During the
funeral ceremony in the church of the Holy Apostles, the infuri-
ated mother held her son^s head up by the hair, and displaying
it to the people, exclaimed, '* Behold how the Pope keeps faith ! "
But these scenes of bloodshed in no wse disturbed the mind of
Sixtus IV. When^ however, he suddenly received intelligence
that the Venetians whom he had abandoned, had, without con*
suiting him or taking his concerns in account, concluded the
peace of Bagnolo (7th August, 1484), he was seized with a violent
attack of fever, and died (12th August, 1484), as men said, of the
pains of peace.

" Nulla vis saevum potuit extinguere Sxxtuiu
Audito lanlKm nomine pads, obit/^ *

»

¥

The palaces of the Riario were being sacked, the Orsini and
the Colonna in arms, when the Cardinals hurriedly assembling
in conclave, succeeded in patching up a truce. Then began a
most scandalous traffic in votes for election to the Papal chair,
which was sold to the highest bidder. The fortunate purchaser
was Cardinal Cibo, who was proclaimed Pope on 2Qth August,
1484^ under the name of Innocent VIII. Hostile to the Aragonese,
he soon joined the conspiracy of the Neapolitan barons, promising
men, arms, money, and the arrival of a new Angevin pretender.
The city of Aquila began the rebellion by raising the standard
of the Church (October, 1485) ; Florence and Milan declared for
the Aragonese ; Venice and Genoa, on the other hand, declared
for the Pope and the barons, who had the aid of the Colonna,
while the C)rsini, taking up arms in the Campagna, marched
straight to the walls of Rome. Confusion was at its height j the
Pope despairing of succour, armed even the common felons \ the
Cardinah were at variance, the people terror-stricken, and
Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere alone paced the walls, and pre-
pared for their defence. An attack was momentarily expected
from the Duke of Calabria. But the Pope's invitation to Rene
II. of Lorraine had the effect of bringing about a peace, compell-

* Guicciardinit ** Staria Fiorentina,** p. 70.

S8

INTROD UCTION,

ing Ferrante to pay an annual tribute^ and grant an amnesty
to the barons, who, hnwevcr, were put to death shortly after*

wards.

During all this confusion, anarchy had again broken loose in
Rome, nor was any w^ay found to restrain it : no morning passed
without corpses being found in the streets. MaJefactors who
could pay, obtained safe conducts ; those who could not were
hung at Tor di Nona. Ever^' crime had its price, and a!l sums
over one Hundred and fifty ducats went to Franceschetto Cibo, the
Pope's son ; smaller amounts to the Chamber. Parricide, viola-
tion, any sort of crime, could obtain absolution for money. The
Vice-Chamberlain used to say laughing^ *' The Lord desireth not
the death of thesinneTj but his life and his purse/' The houses
of the Cardinals were crammed with weapons^ and gave shelter
to numerous assassins and malefactors. Nor was the state of
things in the country very diflferent from this. At Forll Girolamo
Riario was assassinated (14H4), men said, because the Pope wished
to give that State to Franceschetto Cibo ; at Faenza^ Galeotto
Manfredi was murdered by his own wife. Dagger and poison
were everywhere at work, the most diabolical passions were
unchained in Italy, and Rome was the headquarters of crime.

Meanwhile, Innocent VIII. passed his time in festivities. He
was the first Pope who openly acknowledged his own children,
and celebrated their wedding feasts. Franceschetto espoused
Maddalena, daughter of Lorenzo dei Medici (1487), and by way
of recompense, her brother Giovanni was made a Cardinal at the
age of fourteen. In the midst of these and other sumptuous
family rejoicings, a singular personage arrived who completed
the strange spectacle offered by Rome in those days. This was
Djem, or as he was called by the Italians, GemmCj who had
been defeated and put to flight in struggling against his brother
Bajazet for the succession to the throne of Mahomet II. At
Rhodes the knights of that order had made him pris<jner, extort-
ing from Bajazet thirty-five thousand ducats a-year, on condition
of preventing his escape. Later, Pope Innocent contrived to
get this rich prey into his own hands, and obtained forty
thousand ducats yearly from Bajazet, who offered to pay a much
larger sum on receipt of his brother's corpse, but this last arrange-
ment did not suit the Pope's purpose. So on the 13th of March,
1489, Djem, seated motionless in his saddle, dressed in his native
costume, and wrapped in his austere Oriental melancholyp made

4
i

i

HOAfE.

59

^

^

his solemn entrance into Rome, and was lodged in the Vatican,
where he passed his time in studying music and poetry.

The taking of Granada, the last stronghold of the Moors in
Spain, the arrival of holy relics from the East, all gave occasion
for festivals, processions, and bacchanalian orgies. There was a
very imposing ceremony on the arrival of the youthful Cardinal,
Giovanni dei Medici, then only seventeen years of age, and to
whom his father^ among other useful advice^ wrote that he
must bear in mind that he was about to inhabit the sink of all
iniquity. And this Rome certainly was. The Pope's sons and
nephews made the town ring with the scandal of their daily life.
Franceschetto Cibo lost fourteen thousand florins in a single
night at play with Cardinal Riario, whom he accused to the
Pope of cheating at cards ; the money, however, had already
disappeared. The Eternal City had become a great market of
offices and posts, often only created in order to be sold. And not
only offices, but false bulls, indulgences to sinners, impunity for
assassins, could be had fur money : a father, by payment of eight
hundred ducats, obtained absolution for the murder of his two
daughters* Every evening corpses found about the streets were
thrown into the Tiber.

In the midst of these diabolical orgies, the Pope every now and
then fell into a lethargy that was mistaken for death, and then
his relations and the cardinals hurried to secure their treasures
and the precious hostage Djem, and all Rome was in a tumult.
The Pope would awake from his trance, and thereupon the
merry-makings went on as before, and assassination was the
order of the day. At last a fresh attack of the Pope-s malady
left little room for hope. Anxious relations crowded round the
bed of the dying man, who could take nothing but woman's
milk J then, it was said, transfusion of blood was tried and three
children sacrificed to the experiment.

But all was in vain, and on the z^th of July, 1412 — the same year
in which Lorenzo dei Medici had died— Innocent VIII. breathed
his last at the age of sixty. At the death of Sixtus IV,, Infessura
had blessed the day that freed the world from so great a
monster, and the following Pope was much worse than his
predecessor. Nobody now believed that a worse than Innocent
could be found, yet the infamy of the new Pope Alexander VI,,
caused that of his predecessors to be totally forgotten. Of this
monster it will be time to speak in narrating the catastrophe,

6o INTRODUCTION.

which, during his pontificate, and partly through his misdeeds,
overwhelmed the whole of Italy.'

S. Naples,

The kingdom of Naples resembles a perpetually stormy sea,
which becomes monotonous by the changeless uniformity of its
motion. It is true that the Hohenstauffen period had been one
of glory ; but it closed with Manfred's noble death and the tragic
end of Corradino (29th October, 1268), a drama of which the
lugubrious echo resounds throughout the Middle Ages. The
triumph of the Angevins, summoned across the Alps by the
Popes — always the bitterest enemies of the mighty Frederic II.
and his successors — was the beginning of endless calamities. The
bad government of Charles I. of Anjou soon drove the people
to rebellion ; in order to subdue them it was necessary to lean
upon the barons, who, becoming exceedingly powerful, split up
into factions, tore the miserable country to pieces, and were a
powerful weapon in the hands of the Popes, who always hastened
to call in a new pretender whenever they beheld any one prince
becoming formidable. In this way they sought to acquire
territory for their nephews, and maintain their pretended
supremacy in the kingdom, which they devastated and plunged
into anarchy with infinite harm to all Italy. Nevertheless they
also had to pay the penalty of this iniquitous system of policy,
for the Roman nobles having extended their dominions down into
the south, and being therefore subjects of two States, became
a lever used by turns to the hurt of one or the other, with fatal
results for both. Accordingly the whole kingdom of Naples was
subjected to a process of dissolution. New pretenders arose every
day, the people were always oppressed, the barons always in
revolt, no institutions could acquire stability or firmness, no
individual character could long succeed in dominating and
guiding the rest.

Under Joanna I., who had four husbands, and was murdered by
suffocation under a feather bed, the kingdom had fallen into com-
plete anarchy, and the Court turned into an assemblage of dissolute
adventurers. Later King Ladislaus seemed about to initiate a

* For the history of Rome, besides older works, see Gregorovnus's ** Geschichte
der Stadt Rom.," vol. vii., and Reumont's ** Geschichte der Stadt Rom.," vol.
iii., parts i and 2.

NAPLES.

6i

new era. He had subjugated the barons^ conquered internal
enemies, placed a garrison in Rome itself^ and was advancing at
the head of a powerful army, after inspiring all men with the
belief that he was willing and able to make himself king
of all Italy, when he died suddenly at Perugia, as all believed
of poison, in 1414, With Joanna IL, the sister of Ladislaus, a
fresh perifxl of indecency and chaos began. A widow, elderly,
dissolute, the mistress of her own steward , she allowed the State
to fall a prey to the nobility^ mercenary leadtTs^ and courtiers of
the lowest stamp. Alar tin V\, who had had her crowned in 1419,
sent the following year for Louis II L of Anjou to come and assert
his claims to the throne. Joanna in her turn invited Alfonso of
Aragon over from Spain and prcxlaimcd him her successor ^ hut
shortly nominated in his stead Rent of Lorraine, who was
supported by Pope Eugene IV. and the Duke of Milan. Then
followed a long and ruinous war, which only came to an end
when Alfonso of Aragon, after winning many battles, entered the
capital by the aqueducts of the Capuan Gate on 2nd of June, 1445^
and became at last master of the kingdom that he had con-
quered at the price of so long a war and such enormous efforts.
This was the foundation of the Aragonese dynasty.

It is hardly necessary to say in what a miserable condition the
State then was, and how universal was the desire for peace.
Alfonso*s triumph was hailed as the beginning of a new era.
'He had left Spain to come and carry on in our country an
dventurous war, in which, after dangers and hardships of every
description, he had conquered a vast kingdom, struggled with
numerous foes, and defeated the first captains of the age.
A stranger in Italy, he now ruled provinces which had been long
harassed and domineered over by strangers. He had besides
rapidly lost all foreign characteristics, and become in all things

E similar to our princes, with the addition of a warlike and
chivalric spirit that they very seldom possessed. He went
about unarmed and unattended among his people, saying that
a father should have no fear of his ov\ni children. His Court
was crowded with learned men^ and a thousand anecdotes are
related in proof of his extraordinary admiration of ancient
writers. Happening to march with his army past a city, the
birthplace of some Latin writer, he halted as before a sanctuary ;
he never made a journey without having a copy of Livy or Caesar
with him. His panegyrist Panormita pretended to have cured

^2

INTRODUCTION.

him of an illness, by reading to him a few pages of Quin
Curtius ; Cnj^iino dci Medici had concluded a peace with him,
sending him one of Livy's codices, A warrior and a man
unprejudiced mind^ he gave a welcome to all scholars who wei
persecuted elsewhere. This was the case with Valla when he
had to fly from Rome on account of his pamphlet against the
temporal power of the Popes ; the same with Panormita when
his **Ermafroditn/^ although much lauded for the facile elegance
of its versification, excited scandal by an obscenity which had not
yet become familiar to men of learning, and was publicly anathe-
matized from the pulpit. These and many other liierati were
cordially received at the Neapolitan Court, and splendidly re- ;
warded with large salaries, houses and villas, ^|

Exalted to the skies by the learned, Alfonso gained the title 0^^
the Magnanimous through his generosity and knightly spirit
But as a statesman, as founder of a dynasty and pacificator of a
kingdom, one cannot accord him much praise. After baring
ravaged the unfortunate southern provinces with war, he drained
them by taxes levied to pay his soldiery and reward his adherents
the nobles, whom he loaded with favours and rendered more
tyrannical than they were before. Given up to the pleasures of
life, he never succeeded^ during the sixteen years of undisputed
rule that remained to him, in founding anything durable, in
doing anything to relieve the people from the depth of misery
in which his wars had plunged them, or to secure his dynasty
by the consolidation of the kingdom. Dying, 1458, at the
age of sixty- three, he bequeathed his hereditary states in Spain
together with Sicily and Sardinia to his brother \ while the
kingdom of Naples^ fruit of his victories^ he left to his natural
son Ferdinand, whose maternal origin is involved in mystery.

Heir to a vast kingdom, conquered and pacified by his father,
Ferdinand, or Ferrante as he was called, had a right to expect
that he might quietly enjoy its possession ; but, on the contrary,
he was obliged to re -conquer it all again by force of arms, for the
latent disorder now quickly broke out. The first spark of discord
was lit by Pope Calixtus^ who owed everything to Alfonso, and
had himself legitimized Ferrante's birth. But he now declared
the Aragonese Une extinct, and claimed the kingdom as a fief
of the Church. The Angevin barons were in arms, Rene
Lorraine landed between the mouths of the Volturno and th
Garigliano ; revolutions; broke out in Calabria and elsewhere

^

d

NAPLES.

63

I Yet, with enemies on all sides, Ferrantei by 1464, had succeeded
Hti again subjugating the whole kingdom ; and then, instead of
establishing order, thought of nothing but revenging himself
upon his foes* He was accustomed to destroy his enemies by
treacherous means, and, with cynical cruehy, would embrace
them, caress them, and entertain them gaily at dinner before
sending them to their death. A man of remarkable ability, of
great courage and political penetration, but full of vices and
contradictions, he governed in a most ruinous manner, and even
traded on his own account. He would collect a stock of mer-
chandise and then forbid his subjects to sell theirs until he had
disposed of his at his own price* All his transactions were based
upon a false and artificial system, which ended by destroying the
strength of the State, although the king had chosen very able
men as ministers. Of these the best known are his secretary,
Antonello Pe truce i, and Pont an o, who, besides being one of the
finest scholars of his age, was also a very acute diplomatist, and
Ferrante^s prime minister ; it was he who conducted all affairs
with the other Italian States, wrote all diplomatic despatches,
and concluded all treaties. Francesco Coppola, the very rich and
powerful Count of Sarno, carried on commercia! operations in
-quest of money, unhampered by scruples of any sort. But these
clever ministers were but the tools of the false policy of a crafty
and ingenious tyrant, who looked upon his State and his people
in the light of a property from which it was his duty to squeeze
as much as possible during his life, and leave his heirs to take
care of themselves. Then, too, his son Alfonso, Duke of
Calabria, was prouder, more cruel, and more tyrannical than his
father, without possessing either his ability or courage, and
disgusted all who approached him. When the Turks who were
occup)nng Otranto, suddenly withdrew, on account of the death
of Mahomet H., it appeared as though they were flying before
Alfonso, the which so increased his pride and made him so much
more unbearable, that Antonello Petrucci himself and the Count
of Sarno, immeasurably disgusted, and foreseeing the evils that
the character of the heir to the throne would bring about in the
future, placed themselves at the head of the malcontents and
determined to attempt a revolt. Pope Innocent fanned the
fiame, and the result was that great conspiracy of the barons
which set the kingdom of Naples ablaze and threatened to cause
a general war throughout Italy (1485). Ferrante^s craft and

64 INTRODUCTION.

courage sufficed to calm even this tempest ; he concluded a treaty
of peace, and, as usual, succeeded in revenging himself upon his
enemies. But his was a policy that could only be successful
while it was a question of keeping under a turbulent and ex-
hausted kingdom by still further exhausting it. When, however^
dangers attacked it from abroad, matters were beyond remedy.

And such a danger was now at hand, for Charles VIII. of
France was making preparations for the fatal expedition that
was to herald the renewal of foreign descents upon the Penin-
sula. Ferrante, now an old man, quickly took alarm, and warned
all the princes of Italy of the coming calamity, entreating them
to unite for the common defence. The letters he wrote at
that time have a painful tone, a passionate eloquence which
seems to elevate and ennoble his mind, and an extraordinary
political acumen that is almost prophetic' He perceived and
described to admiration all the calamities which awaited his
country and the princes who, like himself, blinded by their OMm
cunning, had rendered unavoidable the common misfortune.
But it was already too late. Italy could not escape the abyss
into which she was already falling. Ferrante had to go down to
his grave with his conscience tortured beforehand by the fall of
his kingdom and of his dynasty, a fall that was already seen to
be inevitable when death closed his eyes on the 25th of January,

1494-
The whole lengthy drama that we have so far described is but a

preparation for the coming catastrophe. And if we were to turn
our attention from the greater to the minor States into which
the Peninsula is divided, we should find at Ferrara, Faenza,
Rimini, Urbino, everywhere, the same series of crimes, the same
corruption. Indeed, the petty princes, exactly because they were
weaker and involved in greater dangers, often perpetrated more
numerous and grosser acts of cruelty in order to save their
threatened power. Still, they never neglected the encourage-
ment of literary culture, of the fine arts, of the most exquisite
refinements of civil life, thus bringing out still more forcibly the
singular contrast, that is one of the special characteristics of the
Italian Renaissance, and one of the greatest difficulties it offers
to our comprehension.

Many Italian writers, animated by a spirit of patriotism that is

* Vide the ** Codice Aragonese," published by Cav. Prof. F. Trinchon,
Superintendent of the Archivi Napolitani, in three vols., Naples, 1866-74.

NAPLES.

6S

^fiot always the most trustworthy guide in judging of historical
facts, have tried to prove that the social and political condition
l^f Italy in the fifteenth century was similar to that of the rest of
, Europe, and need, therefore, excite no astonishment. Louis
XI., they remind us, was a monster of cruelty, and author
j of the most fraudulent intrigues ; the poisonings of Richard ILL
' are not unknown ; Ferdinand the Catholic prided himself on
having duped Louis XIL ten times \ the great Captain Consalvo
was a notorious perjurer, &c., &c/ It is but too true that the
\ formation of the greater European States was accomplished by
^■destroying local governments and institutions by treachery and
^■violence ; and, in these conditions of warfare, the blackest crimes
^f and most atrocious acts of revenge everywhere took place ; and
although such deeds seem almost natural in the general barbarity
of the Middle Ages, they appear utterly monstrous and un-
I warrantable amid the mental culture of the Renaissance. And
^ftin Italy such crimes were certainly less excusable than elsewhere,
^" since there culture had reached a higher pitch, and the contra-
diction presented by this mixture of civilization and barbarism
Pwas more plainly evident.
Nor must it be forgotten that monarch » such as Louis XL and
Ferdinand the Catholic, notwithstanding their crimes, com-
pleted a national work, making of France and Spain two great
and powerful nations, while our thousand-and-one tyrants always
kept the country divided with the sole and personal object of
^^maintaining themselves on their sorry thrones. And if the
^Bpolicy of the fifteenth century was everywhere bad, it must be
^BwJcnowledged that it originated in Italy, who taught it to other
^^nations, and the number who pursued it in Italy was infinitely
greater than in any other country. At every step we come upon
tyrants, faction-leaders, conspirators, politicians, diplomatists ;
^indeed, every Italian seemed to be a politician and diplomatist
tven in his cradle. Thus corruptioi^ was more universal than
rhere, spreading in wide circles from the government through
^society at large ; and so it happened that this Italian policy
which brought into action such prodigious intellectual forces, and
produced so great a variety of characters, ended here in Italy
by building only upon sand. It is true that, looking lower

• *• ConsicleTaJEioni sul libro <Jel Priticipe/^ added by Professor A- Zambelli to
le volume conlaming ** II Prmcii>e i Discorsi di N* Machiavdli,'* Florence, \jt
onnier, 1S57.
VOL, L 6

^

66 INTRODUCTION.

down in the social scale, we find the ties of kindred still respected,
ancient customs still preserved, and a far better moral atmosphere.
And if we turn away from regions where, as in the case of Naples,
Rome, and the Romagna, a continued series of revolutions had
upset and thrown everything into confusion, we find in Tuscany,
m Venetia, and elsewhere, a population far more civilized, milder,
and more cultivated than in the remainder of Europe, and ftu"
fewer crimes committed. Historians, especially foreign ones, have
never taken this fact into account, and, judging the whole nation
by the higher classes, who were also the more corrupt, they have
formed mistaken conclusions as to the moral condition of Italy,
who would have fallen to an even lower depth, and could never
have come to life again, had she been altogether as bad as they
have described.

It must, however, be confessed that it was not merely because
political life was reserved for the few in France, Spain, and
Germany, that the corruption caused by it was less diffused. The
reason lay deeper : in those countries there were institutions and
traditions that still stood firm, opinions that were never discussed,
authorities that were always respected. These naturally created
a public strength and morality altogether wanting among our-
selves, where all things were submitted to the minutest analysis
by the restless Italian mind, which, in seeking the elements of a
new world, destroyed that in which it existed. The Venetian and
Florentine ambassadors at the Court of Charles VIIL, or of Louis
XII., appeared to turn everything into ridicule. They found the
monarch without ability, the diplomatists untrained, adminis-
tration confused, business conducted at hazard ; but they were
amazed by observing the immense authority enjoyed by the king.
" When His Majesty moves," said they, *' all men follow him."
And in this consisted the great strength of the French nation.
Guicciardini, in his despatches from Spain, plainly shows his
hatred and contempt for that country, yet he cannot abstain
from noticing that the personal interests of Ferdinand the
Catholic being in agreement \vith the general interests of the
nation, the royal policy derived enormous strength and value
from that fact. The customs of Germany and Switzerland
appeared to Machiavelli similar to those of the ancient Romans
whom he so heartily admired. Had the disorder and moral
corruption of other nations been altogether identical with that
which one found in Italy, how could we interpret these judgments

NAPLES.

67

of highly competent men ? How could it be explained that Italy
was already decaying, even before being overrun by foreigners,
while other nations were budding into new life ? But, as we
have before remarked, it is necessary to guard against all
exaggeration, or it would be impossible to understand the great
vitality that the Italian nation undoubtedly possessed, and, above
all, its marvellous progress in art and letters. It is to this latter
subject that we will now turn.

IIL

T. Petrarch and the RK\'rvAL of Learning.*

O great distance of time separate*; Dante Allghien
(i265-T32r) from Francesco Petrarca (1304-
74). but whoever studies their life and writings
might almost believe them to belong to two
different agen, Dante^s immortal works are
the opening of a new era, but Dante still
stands with one foot in the Middle Ages.
He has made himself ** parte per se stesso,'^ and has a supreme
disdain for the bad and iniquitous company (**compagnia malvagia
e scerapia ^') that surrounds him,^' but he is always a most

* Regarding Petrarch as a man of learning* our best sources of information are
bis own letlers, well edited and annniated by Fracassetti — ** Epktolie de rebus
familiaribus el varLx- '• Florcnliic, Typis Felicis Le Monnier, 1859-63, 3 vols, ;
** I^ttcre Familiar! e Varie " (translation* with notes), 5 vols. : Florence, Le
Monnier, 1863-64; and '* Lett ere Senili " i Lc Monnicr, 1869-70. Besides
this, a valuable study ufon Petrarcli is to be found in Dr. Georg Voigi's
•* Die Wiedcrbelebvmg des classischen Altcrtbums, o€kr das erste Jahrhunderi des
Humanismus" : Berlin, Reimer, 1S59. This work, and that of Burckhardt, " Die
Cultur der Renaissance in Iialieii," are of the greatest importance for the history
of Italian Iciirning* Other interesting Ixxjks on the same subject are : ** Pclrarquc^
Etude dapres dc nouveaux docutntfrits," par A» Merieres : Paris, Didier, 1S68 i
and the *' Petrarka ** of Ludwig Geiger : Leipzig, Duncher und Humblot, 1874.
Professor Mczi^res make« much yse of the letters published by Fracassetti, but
hardly any of Voigt and Burckhardl*s estimable works* Geiger 's work, on the other
hand, is a synthesis of all that othcis had written !>eforc him, and was published
on the occasion of the ccniciiar)' celebrated in Arquii, the iSth of July, 1874,
when two very interesting speeches, one by Carducci, the other by Akardi, were
also published. Of other recent works on Petrarch, such as that of De Sanctis
('* Critical Essay on Petrarch," Naples, 1869), it is unncccssar>' to speak hcrc»
since they treat of the Italian poet, and not of the man of learning,

■ '* Paraliso," canto xvii/61-63, 67-69.

PETRARCH AND THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING. 69

^_ evei

energetic partisan, fighting sword in hand amid the Guelph and
GhibelHne factions. The Empire that he desires and invokes
is always the mediaeval Empire^ and he defends it with arguments
borrowed from the scholastic philosophy , which even penetrates
into his " Divine Comedy/* Thus Dante's image remains as
though hewn in marble by Michael Angelo, in the midst of the
tumultuous passions of his age^ against which he fights, but out of
which he has not yet found escape. Petrarch, on the contrary,
is of weaker mould, of less original poetical genius^ is neither
Guelph nor Ghibelline ; he despises scholastic philosophy ; feels
that literature is becoming a n^w power in the world, and thai he
owes all his force to his own genius j he has almost forgotten
the Middle Ages, and comes before us as the first modern writer.
It is, however, singular to observe how together with all this he
was an almost fanatical enthusiast for the Latin writers whom he
studied and imitated all his life, neither imagining nor desiring
anything better than the revival of their culture, their ideas, and
even their policy. The explanation of how these same continual
brts to return to the ancient world led instead to the discovery
of a new is, as we have already remarked, the prf>blem that has
to be solved by the historian of the revival of learning in the
fifteenth century. The singular phenomenon is already clearly

■visible in Petrarch, for in him we find the germ of the whole
following century, and the many men of learning who succeed
him seem only to take, each one of them, some one portion of
the multiple work which he embraced in its entiretyj excepting the
study of Greek that he could only encourage by his advice. From
his early youth Petrarch forsook law and scholastic philosophy
for Cicero and Virgil ; he travelled about the world, employed all
his friends in obtaining ancient manuscripts for him, and formed
a very valuable collection of them. He transcribed much with

I his ow*n hand, sought out unknown or forgotten authors ; but his
special quest was for works of Cicero, who was his idol, of whom
he discovered two orations at Liege, and some priv^ate letters
Bt Verona.^ This was a great literary event^ for the flowing and
^ It is known that Petrarch believed thai he had once possessed Cicero's ** Cte
Gloria," and then lost il through leiading it to his master, who, presseti by poverty,
sold il, to Petrarch's life-long regret. Voigt, in his " \VJederl>elebung," pp. 25,
26, expresses his belief that Petrarch was mistaken vi|)oii this point* The volume
be had lent contained many treatises ; it is possible, therefore^ says Voigt, that
the title ** De Gloria " was given by the copyists, as often happened* to one or
I more chapters of some other work — the *'Tuscidane," for instance. This is the

4

JO INTRODUCTION.

somewhat pompous eloquence of Cicero became the constant
model of Petrarch and other learned men, and his epistles were
in especial favour as being the most diffuse form of literary com-
position. The letters of Petrarch inaugurate the long series, they
form his best biography, and are a literary and historical monu-
ment of sovereign importance. They are addressed to his friends,
to princes, to posterity, to the great writers of antiquity. Every
affection, every thought, finds a place in them ; and the author
exercises himself, under Cicero^s faithful guidance, in every
literary style. History, archaeology, philosophy, are all treated
of in these letters, which thus, on the one hand, form an
encyclopedic manual admirably fitted for the collection and
diffusion of a new culture, too young to support as yet a more
scientific treatment. On the other hand, the author displays his
own intellect in these letters, gives free vent to his affections,,
describes people and princes, different characters, and different
lands. In Petrarch, the scholar and the practical observer of
reality are united ; indeed, we can discern how one was born of
the other, and how antiquity, leading the man of the Middle
Ages by the hand, guides him from mysticism to reality, from the
city of God to that of men, and helps him to acquire indepen-^
dence of mind.

If, however, we examine the form of these epistles of Petrarch^
we find that his Latinity is often both inelegant and incorrect ;
no one would dare to place it on a level with that of the classic
writers, and it is inferior to that used later by Poliziano, Fra-
castoro, and Sannazzaro. We must compare it with that of the
Middle Ages to see the immense stride that he has made, and the
superiority of his Latin even to that of Dante. But Petrarch's
highest merit by no means consists in this new classic elegance ;
it consists in the fact that he was the first to write freely of all
things in the same way that a man speaks. He was the first to-
throw aside all scholastic crutches, and prove how much more
swiftly a man could walk without leaning upon them. Sometimes
a little too proud of this, he occasionally abuses his facility, falls
into artifices that are mere tours de force^ or allows himself to

learned writer*s hypothesis, and is founded on the observation that Petrarch lent
the work when very young, at a time when he knew but little of Cicero's writings,
and that later he was never able to make any exact statements about that work.
If ever really possessed by Petrarch, concludes Voigt, it is hardly credible that^
even if missing for a time, it should have been lost for ever.

I

I
I

PETRARCH AND THE REVIVAL Of LEARNING. 71

chatter like a child who, having made the discovery that his tongue
can express his thoughts, goes on talking even when he has
nothing more to say.^

Petrarch, in shorty broke through the mediaeval meshes, in
which man*s intellect was still entangled, and by means of his new
style showed the way to treat of all subjects in a clear and spon-
taneous manner. In reading his epistles, we are often amazed by
the fervour of his almost Pagan love of glory. It sometimes
seems to be the principal motive of his actions, the scope of
existence substituted by him for the ancient Christian ideal,
Dante had already learned from Brunetto Latin i how man may
make himself eternal ; but although in his '* Inferno ^\ the con-
demned think much of their earthly glory, in the " Purgatorio ^*
there is far less anxiety about it ; we are told that Oderisi da
Gubbio was punished ^^ per h gran dcsm deit ccccilcnzay^ ^ and it
disappears entirely in the ** Paradise," where the things of earth
are almost forgotten. The Middle Ages sought for eternity in
another world, the Renaissance sought it in this, and Petrarch
had already embraced this new order of ideas. In his opinion,
it was the desire for glory that inspired all eloquence, all magna-
nimous enterprises, all virtuous deeds ; and he was never weary
of seeking glory, was never satiated with it, although no man
ever attained to so much during his life. The rulers of the
Florentine republic wrote to him ** obsequiously and re%'erently ■ *
{ossequentt e rtverenti), as to one ** whose equal the past knew not,
nor would future ages know." ^ Popes and cardinals, kings and
princes, alike deemed it an honour to have him for their guest,*
A tottering old man, deprived of sight, traversed the whole of
Italy, leaning on one of his sons and one of his pupils, in order to
embrace the knees of the immortal man and print a kiss upon the
brow that had conceived so many sublime things ; and it is
Petrarch himself who tells us this with great satisfaction. 5 The
day on which he received the poet's crown on the Capitol (8th
April, 1 341) was the most solemn and happiest of his life : '^ not

' Voigt makei» this comparison.

* *' For his great desire of excellence,"
3 ** Lett ere Familiari," Italian edition* Vide note to ihe fifth letter of the

deventh book. Petrarch received the invitation on 6th Aprils ^351- Noia betu
that we always quote from Fracassetti's edition of Petrarch *s letters.

* *' Ei Ha cum t^uilmsiiatn ftti^ ut ipsi qttodftmmodo m€t:ttm essetit^^' he himself
says in his Letter aJ Posteros. ** Fani» et Varise/' Latin edition, vol. i. p. 3.

* ** Lettcre Senili," bk. xvi. ep. 7, vol. ii. pp. 505-507.

72

INTR OD UCTION,

so much on n\y own account/* he says^ "as an incitement to
others to attain excellence,'*

This sentiment becomes sometimes, as it were, the familiar
spirit {or Daemon) of the Renaissance, Cola dei Rienzo, Stefano
Porcaro, Girolamo Olgiati, and many others, were less stirred by
a veritable love of liberty than by a wish to emulate Brutus. At
the scaffold's foot, it was no longer the faith in another world, but
only the hope of glory in this, which gave them courage to meet
death. And Machiavelli expresses the ideas of his age^ when he
says that men, if unable to obtain glory by praiseworthy deeds,
seek it by vile, since to make their names live after them is their
sole desire,'

All things tend to urge Petrarch, and after him, his contem-
poraries and successors, towards the world of reality ; he has a
great passion for travelling, on purpose to see^ and describe w^hat
he sees : multa vtdcndt amor ac studium?

He goes to Paris, to ascertain the truth of the marvels told of
that city ; at Naples he visits in detail the enchanting environs,
with the ^neid as his guide. He seeks out the lakes of Avernus,
Acheron^ and Lucrinus, the Sybils cavern, Baiae and Pozzuoli, aiid
describes everything minutely, equally delighted with their natural
beauties and classic memories.^ Virgil had been Dante's guide in
the three kingdoms of the unseen world ; Virgil is Petrarch's
guide in the study of nature. A fearful storm breaks over the
bay one night , and he leaps from his bed \ goes all over the city
and down to the beach ; watches the shipwrecks ; observes the
sea, the sky, and all the other phenomena ; strolls into the
churches among the praying people, and tht-n writes one of the
most celebrated of his Idtters.** Al! this has no longer any novelty
for us, born amid modern realism ; but we must remember that
Petrarch was the first to quit the mysticism of the Middle Ages,
and in order to quit it, was obliged to don a Roman toga,

Dante it is true sometimes describes nature with a few marvel-
lous touches, but all such descriptive bits are used by him as
comparisons and accessories the better to bring his ideas and his
personages into relief ; Petrarch was the 6rst writer to give to
nature a value of her own, as in the pictures of the masters of the

* •* Opere," vol, i,, ptoera to the ** Storie," p. civ.

' " Epjirtola ad Poslcros." at the iTeginning of the *' Fainiliares."

3 ^^Leltere Familiarij-* book v* ep. 4. ^ Iliul., l>ook v, ep. 5

PETRARCH AND THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING, 73

fifteenth centur\\ In his descriptions of character there is a down-

I light realism that recalls the portraits painted in later years by
Masaccioj Lipp>i and Mino da Fiesole. We find him drawing and

i colouring the truth just as it is, and because of its truth, without

I any other object* He is told of a certain Maria of Pozzuoli, a
woman of enortnous strength, who lives always armed, and is

I carrying on a hereditary feud, and he makes a journey on purpose

I to see her^ speak with her, and describe her.'

He gives a lively description of the dissolute licence of the
Court of Joanna I., and of the sway exercised over it by the
Franciscan friar Robert of Hungary — " Of low stature, bald, red-
faced ; with swollen legs ; rotten with v^ice ; leaning bent upon
his staff from hypocrisy rather than infirmity : dressed in a filthy
frock, which leaves half his person uncovered| in order to feign
poverty ; that man strides through the palace with an air of
command, despising all men, trampling justice under foot, con-
taminating all things, Ahnost like a new Tiphys or Palinurus,
he steers through the ttnipest this \x*ssel that must speedily sink. ^^ '
Elsewhere he brings before us with singular graphic power the
stern figure of Stefano Colonna, saying, that, ^'although old age
had somewhat cookd the spirit in his fierce breast, yet even when

I seeking peace, he always finds war, since he would rather go down
to the tomb fighting than bend his unconquered head.'' ^ These
plain and speaking outlines, intermingled with continual quota-

[ tions from the classics, and almost with fragments of antiquity,
gain even greater force by the contrast, and make us see with our

I own eyes, touch with our own hands, the new world that is being

\hora of the revival of the old.

If, too, %ve seek in Petrarch no longer the man of letters but the
individual, then we find that, in spite of his own goodness and

^sincere admiration for virtue in others, there was already apparent
in him that weak changeableness of character, that excitable
vanity, that attribiittng to weirds almost the same importance as to
facts and actions^ which subsequently formed the usual temper of
the learned men of the fifteenth century. He is one of those who
have most loudly extolled friendship, pouring out treasures of
affection in his letters to his friends ; but it would not be easy to

** Letletd Familian/* book v, ep. 4.

** I^ttcre J-amiliari," Ixjok v. cp. 3. Fracassetti gives this letter ibe date of
I Jjrd Novcmi>cj-, I J43«

^ ** LcUere Familiajri, " book \{\u ep, i»

74 INTRODUCTION.

find in his life any example of a deep and ideal friendship, such
as that, for instance, manifested in Dante's expressions about
Guido Cavalcanti. A great deal of this expansive affection of his
vented itself in the literary exercise to which it gave rise. Some
may think that this was contradicted by Petrarch's constant passion
for Madonna Laura, who inspired him with those immoral verses^
which, in spite of his own contempt for them, form his greatest
glory. It is certain that in his " Canzoniere," we find the truest^
most refined analysis of the human heart, a diction free from
alj antiquated forms— even more modern than the language of
many writers of the Cinquecento — and so transparent that the
writer's thoughts shine through it, as through purest crystal. It
is certainly impossible to doubt the existence of true and sincere
passion ; but this Canon who proclaims his love to all the winds
of heaven, publishes a sonnet for every sigh, tells all the world
how great is his despair if his Laura \vill not look upon him, and all
the time is making love to another woman, to whom he addresses
no sonnets, but by whom he has several children — how can he
make men believe that his passion is really as he describes it^
eternal, pure, and sole ruler of his thoughts ? '

And here again the noble figure of Dante shines before us with
increased brightness ; Dante, who concealed himself lest other
men should guess the secret of his love, and who only \vrote when
his passion, having mastered his strength, burst from his lips, in
the shape of immortal verse. Yet Dante's Beatrice is ever wrapped

' Prof. Mezieres, in the fourth chapter of his work on Petrarch, relates how the
poet began to love Laura in 1330, that she was the wife of Hugh de Sade since
1325, and died in 1348, leaving a large family. In 1331, according to M&i^res,
Petrarch's passion was very strong, and continued the same until after Laura's
death. Then the French biographer, obliged to admit that Petrarch, Canon of
Lombez, and Archdeacon of Parma, did not content himself with this species of
affection, but at the same time loved another woman by whom he had a son in
1337, and a daughter in 1343, makes the following remarks: — **Ce n*est pas une
des partuularitis Us moins curieuses de son amour pour Laure qu'au moment oil
il ^prouvait pour elle une passion si vive, il fut capable de chercher ailleurs ces
plaisirs des sens qu'elle lui r^fusait obstin^ment. C'est une histoire analogue k
cclle d'un grand ^crivain de n6tre siecle, qui au sortir du salon d'une femme
calibre oil il ^tait reduit, malgre lui, k aimer platoniquement, se dedommageait
dans des amours plus faciles, des privations qu'il subissait aupr^s de sa maitrcsse"
(p* 153)' But it is by such particularith curieuses that one judges a man's
character ; and Prof. M^i^res, who wished to prove the seriousness and depth
of Petrarch's love, and of his general character, would have done better to refbun
from alluding to Chateaubriand, whose character showed much frivolity and incon-
sistency.

PETRARCH AND THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING, 75

I

I

in an ethereal \-eil of rnystidsm, and finally transfigured intcy
theology, is removed even farther from us ; Petrarch's Laura, on
the contrary* is always a real woman of fiesh and blood ; we see
her close to us^ her voluptuous glances fascinate the poet, and even
in his moments of greatest exaltation, he remains of the earthy
earthly.

In his polidcal career too, Petrarch's mutability — to call it by
no harsher name — b also plainly apparent. He was a friend of
the Colonna. to whom he professed to owe everything^ ** body,
soul, fortune/* ' and by whom he was beloved as a son, and
received as a brother, yet after he had overwhelmed them with
exaggerated praises, he forsook them in the moment of their
peril In fact, when Cola dei Rienzo began the extermination of
that family in Rome, Petrarch, who entertained a boundless
admiration for the classical Tribune, encouraged him to persevere
in the destruction of the nobility : '* Towards them every severity
is a religious duty, all pity an inhumanity. Pursue them sword
in hand, even could you only overtake them in hell itself/* ^ But
this did not prevent him from writing, almost at the same
moment, pompous letters of condolence to Cardinal Colonna :
"Though your house have lost a few of its columns, what matters
it ! It wll ever have in thee a solid foundation. Juh\is Csesar
was one man, yet sufficient for all/^ 3 Later on he again con-
sidered the Colonna as Massimi and Metelli ; * but he did not
therefore refrain from calling the Tribune to account for his
weakness in not having rid himself of his enemies when able to
do so.s It is true that he tried to excuse himself by saying that
he did not fail in gratitude ; sed carior Rcspubhca^ car tor Roma^
can'or Italia^ But what prevented him from keeping silence ?
And yet this ver>' republican, so ardent an admirer of the third
Brutus, "who unites in himself, and surpasses the glory of his two
predecessors,-' ? shortly afterwards entreated the Emperor Charles
IV. to come into Italy, saying that : ** Italy invokes her spouse,

* '* LeUcre Senili," book xvi. ep» i. See also **Lettere FamiHari/* lx>ok v,
ep. 3; txiok vii. ep, ij; book xiii. cp* 6; " Epist. ad Postcros/' and in the
Italian edition of the **Lettcre Familiari '* the two notes to the 1st Jind I2ih
ejnstles in book viii.

* ** Epistolce de rebus fainiU ct varirt," voL iii. ep* 48, pp. 422-32, This epistle
is addressed to Cola dei Rienio and the Roman people.

* ** Lcttere Kainiliari/* book \iii. ep. I. '* Ibiil,, hook viii. ep* 1-
i Ibid.j book xiii. ep. 6. * Ibid., book xi ep. 16.
' ** Epistolie de rebus famil. et vari:e/' voL iii. ep. 48^ pp- 422-32.

76

INTRODUCTION.

her liberator^ and waits impatiently to see his first footstep printed
on her soil,' and who before had chosen even Robert of Naples as
the subject of his praise, declaring that monarchy alone could save
Italy.' It is also well known how many reproofs he addressed to
the Popes for leaving Rome, which could not exist without them.
We cannot judge Petrarch otherwiie than leniently when we
see that he himself was unaware of these contradictions, because
in point of fact all these speeches of his were nothing but literary
exercises, never the expression of a sincere and profound political
passion desirous to translate itself into action. Given a subject,
his pen ran most swiftly in Cicero*s track, and followed the har*
monious cadence of his periods. But — and here we again meet
with Petrarch^s most original characteristic — in treating of either
republic, monarchy, or empire^ he never speaks as a Florentine,
always as an Italian. It is true that the Italy of his desire is often
to be confounded with the ancient Rome that he yearns to
revive, but for that very reason he is the first to see in his learned
dreams the unity of the State and of the country. Dante's Italy
is always mediaeval ; Petrarch's, although majestically enfolded in
the toga of the Scipios, and the Gracchi, is nevertheless a united
and modern Italy. Thus in this, as in aU else, we see that our
author was even here a true representative of his times : in
endeavouring to return to the past, he opened a new future. He
seems always old, and is ever new ; but wt^ must never forget that
the primary source of his inspiration is a literary one, otherwise
we shall be led into continual mistakes and unjust judgments.

Petrarch is a fierce assailant of jurisprudence, medicine, philo-
sophy^ of all the sciences of his day, because they do not fulfil
their promises, but rather keep the mind enchained amid a
thousand sophistries. His writings are often directed against
scholastic philosophy, alchemy, astrology, and he is also the first
who dared openly to revolt against the unlimited authority of
Aristotle^ the idol of the Middle Ages. All this does the greatest
honour to the good sense, that raised him abov^e the prejudices
of his day. But it would be a gross error to seek to find in him a

* **LeUere Familiari," book xii. ep. l, 24tli February, 1350.

* •* Episl. de rebus fa mil. ct varite/* book lii. ep. 7 : '* Monarch iam esse opii-
mam relcgcndis, reparandisquc viribus Ilalis, quas longus bellorum civibum sparsit
furor. Hate ut «^o novi, fatcorque regiiim iiianum nuMlm muribus necwsaiiam,
etc," This was written in 1339 according to FracassctU. See bis note in the
Italian edition.

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE,

77

daring scientific innovator. Petrarch does not fight in the name
of a new principle or new method, but in the name of beauty of
form and of true eloquence, which he cannot find in those sciences,
and cannot discover in the ill-translated and mutilated Aristotle
of his times, ySchoIastic philosophy and its barbarous phraseology
were incorporated in all the knowledge of the Middle Ages, and
this barbarous phraseology was the enemy Petrarch fought against
in all branches of learning. The Italian Renaissance was a
revolution brought about in the human mind, and in culture by
the study of beauty of form inspired by the ancient classics. This
rev^olution and all the perils occasioned by starting from form to
arrive at substance are clearly and strikingly manifested in the
writings of Petrarch, the man of learning, who has therefore been
styled by some, not merely the precursor, but the prophet of the
following century, y

2. Learned Men in Florence,*

The w^ork initiated by Petrarch speedily found a very large
number of followers in Florence, and thence spread rapidly
throughout Italy, In Florence, however, it was the natural out-
come of the political and social conditions of a people, in whose
midst even the learned of other provinces came to perfect them-
selves in their studies, and gained, as it were, a second citizenship.
In our histories of literature, which are frequently too full of

* One of the most important works on the history of the learned men is the
** Vile di uomini illusiri dd secolo," xv., writttn by Vespasiano Bjsticci^ publishe^i
for the first time by Mai, and then by Professur Adolfo Bartoli» Florencct Ilarbtra,
1859. Bisticci, although a most vahiabk^ authority for the m itUh and certainty of
his information, must, however, be examined with cautinni, on account of his
excessive ingenuousness and want of critical faculty. His siatislics are not trust-
worthy, and he seldom Irouble-i himself to give dates. Tiralxischi's ** Storia della
Lilteratura Italiana" (Florence, Molini^ Landi and Co.^ 1S05-13) contains a truly
precious har^-est of facts regarding the learned men, Voi^t and Burckhardt,
frequently quoted » offer important remarks. Nothing, however* but an examination
of the works of the learned men allow us to form an exact judgment of their
respective value. Niiiard's work, ** Les Gladiaicurs dc la Republique des lettres
aux, xv^*^, xvi"«", xvii"'*^ sjL^cles*' (Paris, Levy, 1S60), contains ^ notwithstanding the
oddity of its title, very valuable obi^enations. A vast miscellany of notices is to
Ijc found in the *' EpistoLi; '* of Ambrozio Traversari, published by Mchus, with
a memoir of fhe author ; the numerous biographies written by Carlo de Rosmini
are very useful also, not as criticisms, but for exactness of facts. Other special
works will be mentioned in the pruper place.

78

INTRO D UCTION,

biographical anecdotes and external facts^ the names of these
scholars are given in a mass^ so that they all seem to be first-rate
men, to have the same physiognomy and the same merits, and to
hold the same object in view. To us, however, it is only impor-
tant to know those who showed tme originality amid the thousand
others already fallen or now falling into deserved oblivion, who
with feverish activity repeated the same things over and over
again. Our object is not to give a catalogue of the learned men
and their writings, but to study the literary and intellectual
tran^formatiao that their work brought about in Italy.

The first learned men who offer themselves to our notice are
friends, pupils, or copyists of Petrarch. Boccaccio was one of his
most diligent assistants, as a collector of numerous codices, an
admirer and imitator of the Latin classics, and as promoter of the
study of the Greek tongue^ of which he was one of the first
students. The works which were fruits of his learning are
however lacking in true originality. His Latin writings on the
^^ Genealogy of the Gods/^ on ^Mllustrious Women,'' on the
" Nomenclature of Mountains^ Forests, and Lakes," &c., are little
else than a vast collection of antique fragments, without much
philological or philosophical value. But his mind was saturated
with the spirit of antiquity in so great a degree, that it shows
itself in all his works, even in those written in Italian. In fact,
his Italian prose shows too great an imitation of the Ciceronian
period, and seems to intimate that the triumph of Latin will soon
he universal.

After two men like Petrarch and Boccaccio had once started
upon this road, Florence appeared suddenly tranformed into
a hive of learned men. Learned meetings and discussions were
held on all sides, in palaces, convents, villas,* among wealthy
people, tradesmen, statesmen : all wrote^ travelled, sent mes-
sengers about the world to discover, buy, or copy ancient manu-
scripts. All this did not result as yet in any original work ; but
an enormous mass of material w^as collected, and the necessary

' Many notices on this heat! are collected in the volume divided into Iwu parts,
which Aiessandro Wesselofsky has added lo bis edit ion of the ** Paradiso dcgti
Alberli/* Vide ** II Paradiso degU Albcrti, ritrovi e ragionamenti del 13S9,
romanjto di Giovanni da Prato," edited by Aiessandro Wesselofsky ; Bologna,
Kuraagnoli, 1S67. These mce lings took place now in the hou&c of Colucdo
Saint at i, now at the Paradiso, a villa belonging to Antonio dcgli Alberti,
the San Ntccolo Gate

:rti, outside J

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

79

I

means prepared for a thorough revolution in the field of letters.
The importance of this activity did not consist in the immediate

results obtained, but in the energ)' and power in this wise
employed and developed. The cit)- of art and trade associations
had now become the centre of literary associations. The first of
these reunions was held in the convent of Santo Spirito» by Luigi
Marsigli or Marsili, an Augustine friar and doctor of Theology,
who lived in the second half of the fourteenth centur}\ He had
been the friend of Petrarch, was a man of mediocre abilitVt but to
a great admiration for the ancients, he united an extraordinary
memory, that gave him much aptitude for learned conversation \
and for a long period Florentine scholars mentioned in their
letters the profit derived from those discussions. The commen-
tary^ written by Marsigli on Petrarch's ** Ode to Italy/* shows that
he had not yet quite cut himself loose from the literature of the
thirteenth century.' The two most noted frequenters of his cell^*
Coluccio Salutati and Niccolo Niccoli,^ had, however, already
entered on the Vi^vi path. Salutati, born in the Val di Nievole in
the year 1330, was also the friend and admirer of Petrarch, an
earnest promoter of erudition^ and a great collector of codices.
He was the author of numerous Latin orations, dissertations, and
treatises, and in consequence received from Filippo Villani, as
a title of honour, the name of ** real aper of Cicero/^ But his
inflated and incorrect style, and his confused erudition, would not
have sufficed to hand his name down to posterity, had not his
moral qualities given even to his Hterary work an origijial stamp.
Of exemplary character, and a lover of liberty, he \vas elected
secretary of the Republic in 1375, and served it with the utmost
zeal and ardour to the time of his death. Anrniated by patriotism
and the love of letters, he freed the Florentine official style of
writing from all scholastic forms, trying instead to render it

^ ** Coraenlo a una canzone di Francesco Petmrca/* by Luitji Marsili ; Bologna,
Romagnoli, 1S63. Wes-selofsUy has been one of ihe first to remark ihat there was
a period of transition l^tween the ** Trecentisti '' and the learned men,

' Voigt, at p» 115, also mentions Gianorio Manetti as one who frequented theie
reunions : hut it is a mistake. Luigi Marsigli was txjrn alK>ut 1330, and died on
the 2i5t of August, i394(Tiraboschi, vol, v, j>, 171 \ Florence, Molini, Landi and Co*,
J805-13). Manetti was born in 1396 (Tiralsoiichi, vol. vi. p. 773)* and belongs to
a later generation. The origin of this mistake is, because after Marsigli s death,
Vangclista da Pisa and Girolamo da Napoli taught at St. Spirilo, and Manetti
studied under them.

^ Also known as Uno, Niccolucdo, Niccolino.

So

INTRODUCTION,

classical and Ciceronian, and thus he was the first to ivrite
diplomatic and business documents like works of art, and he
wrote them with singular success, Galeazzo Maria Visconti is
said to have declart^d himself more afraid of one of Salu tali's
letters than of a thousand Florentine knights ; and it is an un-
doubted fact that when the Republic was at war with the Pope»
the letters written by Salutati^ whO| in a magniloquent style
evoked the ancient memories of Rome, had the effect of stirring
to revolt, in the name of liberty, many territories belonging to
the Church. Classic names, reminiscences and forms, had the
power of arousing a truly wonderful enthusiasm in the Italian
mind.

And Salutati's work had very noteworthy consequences even in
the future. The enlistment of literature in the service of politics,
increasingly bound up the former with the public life of the
Florentines, and prtrpared the w^ay for a radical transformation
in the latter. The old forms and conventionalities were gradually
replaced by true and precise formulas, which, just as they had
forced literary men to turn their eyes from heaven to earth, and
from mysticism to reality, also induced statesmen to treat affairs
from a natural point of view, and to rule men by studying their
passions, without allowing themselves to be shackled by prejudice
and traditional usage. This way led by gradual steps to the
political science of Machiavelli and Guicciardini, that owes to
learning not a few of its merits and defects. From this moment
dates the introduction of that use and abuse of eloquence, logic,
and subtlety, to forward certain political ends, which later became
cunning and deceit. Salutati, however, never ceased to preserve
his sincerity and open habit of mind.»

Up to the last day of his life he continued to study and to
encourage youth in his own love for the classics.* He w^as sixty-

' Voigt has been the first to notice ihis point respecting SalutatL
* Leonardo Aretino has recorded that he owed to Salutati his knowledge of
Greek and thorough btudy of L^tin. '* Nemo unquam parens in itiiico dillgendo
filio tam sedalus fuit quam ille in mt".** And Coluccio mentions this friendship
with great delicacy and much nobility of language : *'Conlinna et studiosa nobis
consuetudo fuit, et cum de cunclis qiiie componerem judex esset, ct ego suarum
rerum versa vice, nos niutuo, sicut ferrum ferro acuitur^ exacueramus ; nee facile
dixerim ex hoc dulce et honesto conlubeinia, uter nostrum plus profecerit,
Ulerque tamen emditior evasit, fateri oporleat mutuo no& fuisse viciji&im discipulus
cl magister," These two fragments of letters are given in Moreni's preface, p. xi*
of the " Invectiva Lini Coluccii Salutati in Anlonium Luscum Viccniinum,**

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

3z

five years old when a rumour that Emmanuel Crisoloraj of
Constantinople, was about to come to Florence to teach Greek,
intoxicated him mth joy, and seemed to give him back his youth,
lo 1406 he died at the age of seventy-six, and wa^. buried in the
Cathedral with much solemnity, after his deeds had been cele-
brated in a Latin oration, and his corpse crowned with the poet^s
laurel. From that time the Republic always chose celebrated
men of letters for her secretaries. The long series beginning with
Salutati» comprised Marcello Virgilio, Machiavelli, and Giannotti/
and all the Italian Courts followed the example of Florence.

Niccolo Niccoli was a celebrated man in his day, although no
author^ and only an intelligent collector of manuscripts, which he
often copied and corrected with his own pen. Yet, for the sake of
classical studies, he put himself to infinite trouble and expensej
and made many sacrifices. His researches after ancient manu-
scripts extended to the East and the West» for he gave letters and
commissions to all trav^elling Florentines and those resident in

Florenci?, 1S26. Loschi, or Lusco, as P, Bracciolini calls hini, wa.s Icarnwi in
Latin and civil law, was chancellor lo Gio. Gaknjizo, then Secret a r}' at Rome
from the times of Gregorj' XII. lo those of Nicholas V. Ha\ing spoken ill of
Florence, Coluccio retorted with his " Invcctiva/* an example of the exaggeraiion
and intlation sometimes reached by the learned style of writing. *' Quxnam urbs,
non in Italia »olum, sed in universo terramm orbe est moenibus tutior, superbior
palatiis, templis omatior, forniosiora edificiis ; qiuc porticn clarior, platea spccio-
sior, vianim ampHtudinc lactior : qu£E populo major, civtbusgloriosior,inexhaustior
divitiis, cultior agris ; quae situ gratior^ salubrior coclo, niuntlior caeno ; f|ua^ puteis
cxebiorp aqnis suavior?*' &c», &c. And he gnes on in this style for many pages
(sec p. 125 and foL). According to P. Bracciolini {see note to p. xxvii of the preface
to the *^* Invectiva **)j Salutati had a collection of Soo codices, a very extraordinary
number m those days. And this is how Leonardo .\rctino speaks of the liberality
with which Sal at a ti gave copies of these to all his friends, after again repeating his
praises of the disposition of his friend and master : ** Ut onnltam quod pater com-
mnnis erat omniiimj ct amator bonorum . . . omnes in qiiibus conspiciebat lumen
ingenii, non solum verbis incendebat ad virtutem, vcrum multo magis cvim copiis,
turn libris suis juvabat, quos ille pleno copia cornu non magis usui suo quam
cetcruium esse volebat**' {See p. xxvii of the above-quoted preface.) Afterwards
Salutati*s library was dispersed, being sold by his sons (Ibid*, pp. xxvii-viii).
Shepherd, in his ** Vila di Poggio Bracciolini/* gives various notices of Salutati,
a few of his letters, and a catalogue of his works. See the edition of Salutati's
'* Epistolie,'' prepared by Mehus, which is not, however, ver}* correct* Many of
Salutati's writings still remain unedited in the public libraries of Florence,

' After Coluccio Salutati, the following were successively among the secretaries
the Republic ; I.,conardo Bnmi, Carlo Marsnppini, Pc^gio Bracciolini,

Dedetto Accolti^ Crisioforo Landino, Bartolommeo Scala, Marcello Virgilio
Adrian i, who was first secretary while Machiavelli was second, Donato Giannotti»
and not a few others.

82

INTRODUCTION.

foreign countries. A frugal liver, he spent his whole fortune, and
ran heavily into debt, in order to purchase books. His energy
was so great that applications were made to him from all quarters
respecting ancient codices^ and it is chiefly owing to him that
Florence then became the great book centre of the world, and
possessed librarians as intelligent as Vespasiano Bisticci, who was
also the biographer of all the learned men of his day. Niccoli was
also most indefatigable in attracting the most reputed scholars of
Italy to Florence, in order to have them employed in the Floren-
tine University,' or in other ways. It was through his efforts
that Leonardo Bruni, Carlo Marsuppini, Poggio Bracciolini
Traversari, Crisolora, Guarino» Filelfo, were summoned to
Florence and given employment. But being of an irritable dis-
position^ bis friendship easily changed to aversion, he then
persecuted those whom he had previously protected, and as he
enjoyed the favour of the Medici, his power of persecution was
very^ great. To him and to Palla Strozzi is to be ascribed the
reform of the Florentine Universityi and the encouragement of
the study of Greek. So intense was his ardour for the propaga-
tion of learning, that after the fashion of a religious missionary,
he would stop rich young Florentines in the street, exhorting
them to devote themselves to virtue^ ?>., to Greek and Latin
literature, Piero dei Pazzi, a youth ivho only lived, as he himself
said^ to enjoy himself (^*per darsi bel tempo"), w^as one of his
converts, and became a man of learning =

Niccoli's house was a museum and ancient library, Niccoli
himself, a living bibliographical encyclopedia. He had a collection
of eight hundred codices^ valued at six thousand florins. ^ In
these days it is easy to realize the importance of a good librar^^ in
an age when printing was unknown, and the price of a single
manuscript was very often quite beyond the means of students,
even when they knew* where to seek it. Niccoli's library was
thrown open to all^ and all came to his house to study, to make
researches, to copy, to ask help and counsel that was never with*

" Then known as the Sttidio FioreniinOp

* Viik Vespasifluio's** Vita dei Picro dei Pazzi."

^ In hb ** Vita di N, Niccoli,*' 8th paragraph. Vcspasiano gives the number of
volumes at eight hundred ; other writers state that they barely exceeded six hundred.
Poggio Bracciolini (see preface to Salutati's ** Invectiva," before cited » p, 57)
aliso says that ihey were eight hundred. Neither can their precise value be
ascertained.

CQbUlO UKl MEDICI.

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

«3

held, E\*en at his frugal table he surroundeJ himself with objects
of antiquity, and Vespasiano tells us^ that ** it was a rare sight to
see how ancient he made himself/' ' The frivolous points of his
character, and the somewhat ludicrous scandals of Ms private life,
caused by a female servant who ruled him entirely, were passed
over on account of his sincere, constant, and disinterested zeal for
letters. When on his death-bed, at the age of seventy-three, in
1437, his only anxiety was to guarantee to the public the free use
of his books, which, in fact, formed the first public library in
Europe, This was owing to the care of his executors and the
munificence of Cosimodei Medici, who renounced his credit of five
hundred florins, paid other of Niccoli^s debts, and retaining a
portion of the codices for himself, placed four hundred of them in
S- Marco for the public use, and afterwards increased their number
at his own expense.^

=■ Vid( Vespasiano, ** Vita di N. NiccoU ** ; Mchus, ** Ambr. CamQldulemis
Epist," prcfntia, pp. 31, h% 82: Tiraboschij vol. v\\. p. 125» and fol. Co*»imo
dci Me<Uci ha*) the books placed \w Si. Maj-k^s in the year liH4 ii ^^^ grand hall
built at his expense by the Architect Michelozzi, which was resiort*d r.nd enlarged
after the earthquake of 1433 (P, Marchese, " Scritii Varii" : Firenste^ Le Moniijcr,
185s, p. 13s). Later, that I's after the overthrow of Plero dei Medici^ tn 1494, the
friars of St. Mark's bought the codices in the private library of the Medici, which
were afterwards bought bacli by Cardinal Giovanni tlei Medici^ who later became
Pope Leo X. At his death, Cardinal Giubo dci Medici, afterwards Pope Clement
VIL, his executor^ carried them back to Florence, and comniisiiiDned Michael
Angclo with the construction of the building in which they were to be placed, in
the cloister of St. Lorenzo. The edifice was completed under Cosimo I., after the
death of Clement VIL, and thus was founded the famous Laurentian library.
According to Padre Marchese, Cosimo dei Medici* having paid Niccoli's debts, and
added ccwJices of his own to iho^ of his deceased friend in St. Mark's, his sons
and grandsons bad a certain right over them, and, therefore, when ihey re-
purchased from the brethren the private Medici collection, they included among
them many of Niccoli's. Upon the history of these collections various notices are
to be found in Vespasiano's ** Vita di N. Niccoli '' and ** Vita di Cosimo di
Medici"; Tjrabu.<hi, vol. vi. p. 128, and fob; " Poggio Opp. " ; Basle, 1538,
p. 270. and fol. ; Mehus " Ambr. Camaldulensis Epist.," prefatio, p. Ixiii, and
fob, Ixxvi, and fob ; P. ^Ll^che5e, *' Scntti Varii," p. 45, and fol. I have already
published several documents in my *' Storia di Frate G. Savonarola cd i suoi
leropi." A short rd|>ort — ** Delle Biblioteca Mediceo, Laureziana di Firenze,"
Firenxe, Tofani^ 1872 — wa-s published by the librarian, Cav. Fernicci, and its
fluthari Signor Anziani^ underdibrarian. But everything relating to the history
of the private Medici collection has been narratetl at length and illustrated by new
and important documents by Professor E. Piccoloroini, in the ** Archivio Storico/*
vol. 3iix,» t, 2, and 3 Nos. of 1874, and vol. xx. No. 4 of 1S74. This same
work has also been published separately, and entitled — **Intorno alle condizioni
cd allc vicende della libreria Medicea privata,'' by E. Piccolomint : FirenzCi
Cellini and Co, 187$.

84

INTRODUCTION.

A third resort of learned men was the convent of the AngioU,
the abode of Ambrogio Traversari, native of Portico, in Komagna,
born in 1386, and nominated General Head of the Camaldolesi
in 1431* An able and ambitious mao» he was a great favourite
with the Medici who, together with Niccoli, Marsuppini, Bruiii,
and not a few others^ were frequent visitors to his cell. He had
the faculty of preserving the friendships of ev^en the touchiest of
the set ; he knew how to keep a discussion alive^ but he had very
little literary originaUty. He made translations from the Greek ;
wrote a work entitled '^ HodiEporicon/* containing various literary
notices and descriptions of his travels ; but his " Epistolse " are
his principal work, on account of his intimate relations with the
scholars of his time, and form an important contribution to the
history of that century. All this, however, is not enough to
justify the great reputation that he then enjoyed, and that
lasted after his death, for Mehus, in the preface and biographical
sketch attached to his edition of the ** Epistnlse/' tried to con-
centrate round them the literary history of that century.

It would be an endless task to enumerate all the meeting-places
of the learned ; but we must not forget to mention the house
of the Medici, t^ihere all and every one of them found welcome,
patronage, and employment. There, too, were to be found all
artists and foreigners of any merit. Ahnost all the richer Floren-
tines of the fifteenth century were patrons and cultivators of
letters, Roberto del Rossi, the Greek scholar, passed a cehbate
life in his study, and gave lessons to Cosimo dei Medici, Luca
degli Albizzi, Alosandro degli Alessandri, Domenico Buoninsegni.
The Nestor of these aristocratic scholars was Palla Strozzi — ^he
who aided Niccoli in his reform of the Florentine University —
who paid out of his own pocket a large portion of the sum
required to tempt Crisolora to come and teach Greek in Florencej
and who spent much gold in obtaining ancient codices from
Constantinople, When most iniquitously driven into exile, at
the age of sixty- two, by Cosimo dei Medici, he found courage to
bear up under this misfortune, and the subsequent loss of his
wife and all his children, by studying the ancient writers at Padua
up to the age of ninety-two years, when he went to his grave."

And lastly, it is necessary to mention the University of Florence.
In general, the Italian universities had been seats of mediaeval
and scholastic culture ; learning had commenced outside, and not
* \'»;spaiiianOi " Vita di P. Suozzi."

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

85

N

seldom in opposition to them. But it was otherwise in Florence,
the Studio almost rose and fell with the rise and fall of erudition.
It did not come into existence until the December of 1321, dragged
on languidly enough, now closed, now reopened, until 13Q7, when
Crisolora, by his teachings in the Greek tongue, made Florence
the centre of Hellenism in Italy. Later, the University again
began to languish, but was renovated in 1414 by the efforts of
Niccoli and of Strozzi, who, taking ad\'antiige of an ancient law,
decreeing that none of the teachers should be Florentines, invited
the most celebrated men in Greece and Italy ; thus forwarding
more than ever the union of Latin and Greek culturCj and that
of Florentine learning with Italian. In 1473, Lorenzo dei Medici
transferred the Studio to Pisa \ but Florence was allowed to
retain a few chairs of literature and philosophy, which were
always filled by celebrated men/ The great literary movement,
that we have been employed in examining, produced no man
of commanding talent after Petrarch and Boccaccio. All was
confined to collecting, copying, correcting codices ; materials were
prepared for a fresh literary advance, which, however, had not
yet begun. Italian composition had decayed, and Latin had as
yet no original merits ; we find grammarians, bibliophiles, and
bibliographers in the place of real writers. But by slow degrees
a new generation of learned men sprung up, showing a genuine,
and, up to that date, unusual originality. This fact was the
result of a natural process of things ; writers who had at last
thoroughly mastered the Latin tongue, began to express them-
selves with an ease and spontaneity which gave rise to new
literary qualities, even to a new literature. Grammatical ques-
tions, when examined and discussed by men of the acute intellect
and fine taste at that time possessed by Italians, wxre inevitably
transformed into philosophical questions, thus laying the founda-
tion of fresh progress in science.

But extraneous causes w*ere also at work to hasten and provoke
so notable a transformation, and foremost among these was the
study of Greek, It was the means of bringing into contact, not
merely two languages, but two different literatures, philosophies,

* The decree was signed in 1472 — Prezzincr, *' Storia del Puhblico Studio/' &c. :
Floxenccj 181 2, in 2 vals. This work has not much historical value \ Imt notices
<:oncermng the Simlio are to l*e found scaUered among the writings of the learned
xncn» and one can alstj consult the work entitled — ** Hi<»loria Acadeniix Pisanae,"
auctore Aiigelo Fabronio : Pisis, 1791-95, in j vols.

Se INTRODUCTION,

civilisations. Thus the horizon was suddenly enlarged, and
besides the greater originality of Greek thought and language,
the mere fact of their great difference from Latin thought and
language was of immense importance. The Italian mind found
itself constrained to higher effort, to a longer and more difficult
mental flight, requiring and developing greater intellectual energy.
During the Middle Ages the Greek language had been very little
known in Italy, and the knowledge of it possessed by the monks
of St. Basilio, in Calabria, was much exaggerated by report. Two
CalabrianSi Barlaam and Leonzio Pilato^ had picked up the
language at Constantinople \ and the former of these taught its
rudiments to Petrarch, who^ notwithstanding his ardent desire to
learn it, could never understand the Homer that he kept spread
open before hira/ The second was Professor in Florence for
three years, thanks to Boccaccio, who thus brought about the
foundation of the first Greek chair in Italy.' But from 1363 to
1396 this instruction, in itself poor enough^ failed entirely.
Italians desiring to obtain it were compelled, like Guarino
and Filelfo, to seek it at Constantinople. And the first Greek
refugees who game among us were of far less use than is
commonly supposed ; for being ignorant of Italian, having only
a smattering of Latin, and not being men of letters, they were
quite incapable of satisfying a passion to which, however, their
very presence was a lively stimulus. It was the election of
Emanuele Crisolnra to a professorship in the Studio, in 1396,
that really marked the beginning of a new era of Hellenism
in Italy. Previously a teacher at Constantinople^ he was a true
man of letters, he was capable of teaching scientifically, and he
numbered among his pupils the first literati of Florence. Roberto
dei Rossi, Palla Strozzi^ Poggio Bracciulini, Giannozzo Manetti^
and Carlo Marsuppini immediately came to attend his lessons.
Leonardo Bruni, then engaged in legal studies, no sooner heard
that it was at last possible to learn Homer's tongue, and drink
of the first fountain of knowledge, than he forsook ever^^thing
in order to become cnie of tht- best Hellenists and literati of
his time.^ From that moment, he who was ignorant of Greek
was esteemed but half educated in Florence, for that study made

* PeUarca, " Letterc Senili/' bk. iii. lett. 6 ; bk. \. 1«U. 1 ; bk. vi. lett. I, 2.
'* Loon. Bnini, '* Rerum suo tempore in Italia gestaruin, Commentarius,'* apud
lilurat* Scri|>t., Turn. xix. p. 920,

i

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE,

87

rapid strides, and it was like\ri.sc greatly aided by the arrival of
other refugees, generally of higher cultiv^ationj and who found
a better prepared soil." Another important aid was the Florentine
Council of 143Q, which, intended to reunite the Greek and Latin
Churches, served instead to unite the literary spirit of Rome and
Greece. The Pope had need of Italian interpreters to understand
the representatives of Greece, and both parties, equally indifferent
to religious questions, at the first meeting leapt from theology to
philosophy, which was usually among the Greeks more widely
cultivated than letters. Giorgio Gemisto Pletone, the most
learned of those who came at this time to Italy, and an
enthusiastic admirer of Plato^ succeeded in inspiring Cosimo dei
Medici with the same admiration \ hence ihe origin of the
Platonic Academy. An enormous enthusiasm, a prodigious
literary activit^^ then began in Florence, and at last we see the
appearance of a new literary originality, and the beginning of
a revival of philosophy.*

The first scholar to prove himself an original WTiter was Poggio
Bracciolini, boni at Terranova, near Arezzo, in 1380. After
studying Greek with Crisolora, he went with Pope John XXIII.
to the Council of Constance as a member of the Curia, and
wearing the ecclesiastical dress, without, however, being in holy
orders. This was a common custom among the learnedj who —
if unmarried^ — could in this manner obtain many advantages
re^rved for the clergy, of whom, however, they generally spoke
much evil, Soon wearying of religious controversies and disputes,
Bracciolini set out upon a journey, and in one of his letters gave
an admirable description of tiie Falls of the Rhine and of the
Baden springs ; indeed, of these latter he gives a picture so vi%^id
that to this day we can recognize its fidelity.^ His Latin, though
far more correct than that of his predecessors, is full of Italianisms
and neologisms ; but it has the spontaneousness and vivacity of
a living language ; instead of a mere reproduction, it is a real
and genuine revival. Therefore it is in Poggio and some of his
contemporaries that we must look for the flower of the Humani-

* Tiiaboschi, ♦» Storia delk Letteraitura Italiana"; Giblx>n, "Decline and
Fall," &C. ; Voigt, ** Die Wiederbelebung/' &c.

' Vide Voigti Gibbf>n, and also my '* Storia di G. SaTonarola/' vol. i, chap. iv.

^ G. Shepherd, " Vita di Poggio Bracciolini," translated from the English by
T* Tonellit with notes "and fuJdiiions. Horence : Ricci, 1825, 2 vols, yide vol.
L p. 65 and fob the Inmslalioii of the letter quoted from.

88

INTRO D UCTION,

ttes^ not in those who, like Bembo and Casa, gave us an imitation
which, if more faithftil, is also more mechanical and raateriaU
Poggio, throwing aside dictionaries and grammars, feels the need
of writing as he speaks ; is enthusiastic in the presence of Nature ;
seeks truth, and laughs at authorities ; but still remains a man of
learnings and this fact must ever be kept in sight. In the year
1416 he was present at the trial and execution of Jerome of
Prague, and described ev^erything in full in one of his best known
letters to Brani. The independence of mind with which this
learned member of the Papal Curia dared to admire the heroism
of Luther^s precursor^ and proclaim him worthy of immortality,
is truly remarkable. But what was it that he admired in him ?
Not the martjT, not the reformer ; — on the contrary, he asserts
that if Jerome had indeed said anything against the Catholic
faith, he well deserved his punishment. What he admired in
him was the courage of a Cato and of a Mutius Scsevola ; he
extolled " his clear, sweet, and sonorous voice ; the nobility of
his gestures, so well adapted either to express indignation or
excite compassion ; the eloquence and learning with which, at
the foot of the pile, he quoted Socrates, Anaxagoras, Plato, and
the Fathers." *

Soon we find Poggio leaving Constance altogether » for the
purpose of making long journeys. He traversed Switzerland and
Germany, hunting through monasteries in search of old manu-
scripts, of which he was the most favoured discoverer in that
century. To him we owe works of Ouintilian, Valerius Flaccus,
Cicero, SiUus Italicus, Ammianust MarcellinuS| Lucretius, Ter-
tullian, Plautus, Petronius^ &c. When the news of these dis-
coveries reached Florence^ the city was wild with joy, and Brimi
wrote to him, that above all, by the discovery of Ouintilian, he
had made himself the second father of Roman eloquence, ** All
the people of Italy," wrote he, ^^ should go forth to meet the
great writer whom thou hast delivered from the hands of the
barbarians." ' Many others then followed his example in search-
ing for manuscripts. It was said that Aurispa had brought from
Constantinople no less than two hundred and thirty-eight codices;
and the fable was spread that Guarino's hair turned suddenly
white through his having lost in a shipwreck many codices that

' Poggii, " Opera,'* Basle edition, pp. 301-305.
■ L. Aretini, *' Epist,'* bk. iv. ep. 5.

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

89

le was bringing to Italy from the East.* But no one equalled
Bracciolini in diligence and good fortune.

In England, however, while with Cardinal Beaufort, he found
himself isolated, in the company of wealthy uncultured nobles,
who passed the chief part of their life in eating and drinking.*
During those dinners, which sometimes lasted four hours, he was
obliged to rise from time to time and bathe his eyes with cold
water, in order to keep himsdf awakeJ Yet the country offered,
by its novelty, a vast field of observation to Bracciolini, who had
the acuteneiis to notice that even in those days it was a special
characteristic of the English aristocracy readily to admit within
its ranks men who had raised themselves from the middle classes.*
But the novelty of the country and the variety of customs and
characters, all of which he noticed and which occupied his mind,
were not sufficient recompense for the slight account in which
the learned were held there, and he^ therefore, sighed for his
native land.

And in a short time we find him established in Rome as
secretary to the Roman Curia during the reign of Martm V.
There at last he was in his true element. He used to spend
the long winter evenings with his colleagues, in a room of the
Cancelleria, which went by the name of the place of hes (il
bugiaie^ siue mendactorum ufficina)^ because there they amused
each other with anecdotes, both true and falj>e, and more or less
indecent, in which they ridiculed the Pope, the Cardinals, and
€ven the dogmas of the religion in defence of which they wrote
Briefs. In the morning he attended to the slight duties of his
office, and composed literary works, among others his dialogues
on avarice and hypocrisy^ — vices which he declared to be peculiar
to the clergy — and, therefore, sev^erely scourged. But no serious
motiv^e is to be found in these satires ; only the same biting and
sceptical spirit shown hy our comic writers and novelists, who,
like Poggio, laughed at the faith which they professed. These
latter sought to paint the manners of the day ; Poggio and the
other men of learning chiefly desired to show the ease with

' Tiraboschi» '* Storia della Letteratum ItaUana," vol, vi. p. 118; Rosmini,
** Vita e disciplina di Guarijio X'^cTonesc/' EresciaT 1805-6,

= Vide his letter to NjccoH. dated 29lh October, 1420* publishefl in the trans-
lation of Shepherd's Work, vol. i, p» 11 1, Note C,

' Vespasjano, ** Vila di Poggiti Bracciolim/' s» I,

♦ Poggii, "Opera/^ p. 69,

INTRODUCTION,

which they could use the Latin tongue on all kinds of subjects^
sacred or profane, serious, comic, or obscene. That was all.

In fact Bracciolini, notmthstanding his onslaughts on the
corrupt nianners of the clergy, led a very intemperate life. And
when Cardinal St. Angelo reproved him for having children,
which was unfitting to an ecclesiastic, and still more for having
them by a mistress, which was unfitting to a layman ; he replied
without at all losing countenance : ^*I have children, and that is
fitting to a layman ; I have them by a mistress, and that is an oli
custom of the clergy.'* And farther on in the letter he tells the
story of an Abbe who presented a son of his to Martin V., and
receivdog a reproof, answered, amid the laughter of the Curia,
that he had four others also ready and willing to take up arms
for His Holiness,*

Coming to Florence with Pope Eugene IV., he was thrown
among the learned men gathered together there, and drawn into
very violent disputes with the restless Filelfo, who was then
teaching in the University. This scholar, who had been to
Constantinople and there married a Greek wife, w^as almost the
only man in Italy who could then speak and write the language
of Plato and Aristotle. He worried every one by his boundless
vanity and restlessness of character ; at last he made attacks
against the Medici, and was compelled to leave Florence, Then
he began to ^vrite satires aimed at the learned who had been his
friends and colleagues, and Bracciolini replied to him in his
*Mnvettive/' It was a warfare of indecent insults, in which the
two scholars showed off their strength in rhetoric and their
masterly Latinity. Filelfo had the advantage of writing in verse^
and therefore his insults were easier to retain in the memory
but Bracciolinip having greater talent and wit, was better able^
by writing in prose, to express all that he wished to say. He
repulsed the abuse which '* Filelfo had vomited from the fetid
sewer of his mouth,'' and attributed his adversary* s foulness of
language to the education he had recei\^ed from his mother,
** whose trade it ^vas to clean the entrails of beasts ; it was her
stench therefore that now emanated from her son,"' He accused

* Viih Shepherd's Work, voL i. pp. 1 84-85.

* ** Verum nequnquam mirum vidcri del>et, cum cius mater Arimlni dudum in
purgandis veniribust ct int^stinis sortti delueiidis quitstuni fecerit, inalerna; artis
fwlorcm redolere, Haesit naribus filii sii|;acis matcrni exercidi atUactata putredo
et continui stercoris fcctens halilus " (I'oggii, ** Opera,** p. 165).

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

91^

^

¥

¥

him of having ^seduced the daughter of his master, in order to
marry her and then make a traffic of her honour, and wound up
by offering him a crown worthy of so much foulness.* Not
content with all this, they even accused each other of vices which
modesty forbids us to mention in these days^ but of which these
learned scholars were accustomed to speak without reserve and
almost in jest, after the manner of Greek and Roman writers.

Our minds shrink from dwelling on the frightful moral depravity
with which all these things saturated the Italian spirit. And
Poggio composed these much-praised invectives of his in a
delightful villa, full of statues, busts, and ancient coins of which
he made use to gain a closer knowledge of antiquity, thus
inaugurating the study of archaeology', as he had already done in
Rome by describing its monuments and remains. He considered
this to be the fit paradise for a chosen spirit, for an encyclopaedic
man of letters destined to immortality. At the age of fifty-five^
Id order to marry a young lady of high birth, he abandoned the
woman with whom he had lived up to that time, and who had
made him the father of fourteen children, of whom four survivors,
legitimized by him, were left destitute by this marriage. But he
remedied this by writing a dialogue : An sent sit uxor ducenda^
m w^hich he defended his own cause. An elegant Latin composi-
tion was all that was needed to solve the hardest problems of
existence, and soothe his own conscience. To a man of learning
words were of greater value than facts ; to be eloquent in tlie
praise of virtue was as good as being virtuous, and the greatest of
mankind owed their immortality solely to the eloquence with
which their lives had been narrated by first-rate writers. Where
would be the fame of Hannibal or Scipio, of Alexander or
Akibiades, without Livy, without Plutarch ? He who could
write Latin with eloquence, was not only sure of his own
immortality, but could bestow it upon others at his own good
pleasure.

From Tuscany Poggio returned to Rome, and during the
pontificate of Nicholas V.^ profited by the wide liberty accorded
to the learned, to publish attacks on priests and friars and the

* ** At stercorea corona ornabunttir foetentes crines priapei vali " (Ppggiit
" Opera," p. 167). It is impossible to give the most obscene fragments of Poggio*5
" Invctlive " and Filelfo's ** Satire." Mons. Nisard in his ** Gladiateurs," &c.»
aUempted to give several in the appendices to his '* Vita del Filelfo edi Poggio;**
but he loo found It Lmpo«^iblc to continue.

92

INTRO D UCTION.

** Liber Facetiarum^ in which he collected all the satires and
indecencies that used to be related in the hugiaie. In the preface
to this book, he plainly stated that his object was to show how the
Latin tongue ought and might be made to express everything.
In vain the more rigorous blamed this old man of seventy for
thus contaminating his white hairs : since Panormita had pub-
lished his *' Hermaphroditus/ ^ the Italian ear was shocked by
nothing, and Poggio tranquilly passed his time in writing obsceni*
ties and keeping up literary quarrels. About this time he had
one with Trapezunzio that ended in blows ; another with
Valla, and this gave rise to a new series of " Invectivae " on his
part, and on his opponent's to an *^ Antidotus in Poggium.** The
question turned on the worth of the Latinity and the grammatical
rules asserted in the " Elegantise," of Valla^ who^ possessed of a
superior critical faculty^ came off victor in the fight. And in this
quarrel also the disputants rivalled each other in scandalous
indecency. Accused of every vice that was most horrible,
Valla gave as good as he got, without much concern for
his own defence, and indeed often showing a remarkable
amount of cynicism. Thus, when Poggio accused him of
having seduced his own sister's maid, he replied merrily that
he had wished to prove the falsity of his brother-in-Iaw^s
assertion, namely, that his chastity did not proceed from
virtue.' It would, however, be a great mistake to measure by the
violence of these writt^rs' insults the force of their passions. The
" InvectivBe ^' were almost always simple exercises of rhetoric ; the
two disputants came down into the arena in the spirit of per-
formers about to give a display of their dexterity and nudity.
But even if the passions were unreal, there was terrible reahty in
the moral harm resulting from these miserable shows.

We gladly turn aside from these foul places, for we have as yet
by no means fully described the prodigious activity of Poggio
Bracciolini. Next to epistles, orations were the compositions most
in fav^our with the learned. They crowded into these all possible
reminiscences of antiquity, all possible figures of rhetoric. A
good memory was frequently the only faculty necessary to secure
certain success — ^* he had an endless memory, he quoted every one
of the ancient writers ''' — was the eulogium Vespasiano used to
make on the most celebrated of these orators, who seemed to have

* " Volui itaque ets ostendere id quod facerifm non vittum esse corporis, sed
animi vinulem ** (** Antidoius," p. 222),

A

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

95

I some thesaurus from which to draw inspiration for their own
I eloquence. Were a general mentioned^ instantly a hst of great
battles was given : a poet, and forth came a torrent of precepts
from Horace or Ouintilian. The real subject disappeared before
the desire to turn everything into an opportunity of gaining
greater familiarity u^th antiquity ; style was false, artifice con-
tinualj exaggerations innumerable, and all funeral orations became
apotheoses. Once Filelfo, wishing to attack one of his persecutors,
took the chair and began in Italian ; *' Who is the cause of so-
many suspicions ? Who is the originator of so many insults ?
Who is the author of so many outrages ? Who and what is this
man ? Shall I name so great a monster ? Shall I designate such
a Cerberus ? Shall I tell you who he is ? Certainly I must tell
you, I say it, I will say it, were it at the cost of my life. He is
the accursed, the monstrous, the detestable, the abominable, . . .
Ah ! Filelfo, hold thy peace, for heaven's sake utter not his name !
He who is incapable of controlling himself, is ill-fitted to blame
the intolerance and inconstancy of another." * This was what
was then considered a model of eloquence ; hence Pius II, was
right in saying that a skilful orator could only stir hearers of small
intelligence.^ A Frenchman of good taste, the Cardinal d*E stout-
ville, when listening to an eulogy- on St, Thomas of Aquinas,
delivered by Valla, could not refrain from exclaiming ; " But this
man is stark mad I ''^ Yet these orations were then so much in
vogue, that they were considered indispensable on all great occa-
sions, whether a prtxlamation of peace^ the presentation of an
ambassador, or any other public^'or private solemnity. Every
court, every government, sometimes even wealthy families, had
their official orator. And precisely as now-a-days there are few
fetes without music, so in those times a Latin discourse in verse
or prose was the choicest diversion of every cultured company.
Numbers of these discourses were printed, but these were the
minority ; Italian libraries contain hundreds still inedited. But
In aU this abundance no examples of real eloquence are to be
found, with the exception of a few of the orations of Pius II.,.
;iQse utterances were not always mere literary exercises, but who-

^ Rosmini, " Vita di Filclfo/' vol, i. doc, ix, p. 125,

' PlaLina, *»Vitadi Pii 11.*'

5 Gasjiaro VeroQese quoted by VoigL Vidt ** Die Wiederbelebung,"

P' 437*

&c.,.

94

INTRODUCTION.

often spoke with some deHoite aim» and did not then pour forth
floods of rhetoric*

Poggio Bracciolini was held to be one of the first masters of
oratory, and seldom lost an opportunity of making an oration,
particularly in praise of deceased literary friend?. The aise of his
style, though often sinking into prolix verbosity » his vivacity, da^^h
and good sense, render him more readable than the others, but
never eloquent. The last years of his life were passed in Florence,
where, on the death of Carlo Marsiippini (April 24, 1453)1 he was
made secretary of the Republic, and wrote his last work, a " His-
tory of Florence'^ from 1350 to 1455. In this work, following
the example of Leonardo Bruni, he forsakes the manner of the
Florentine chroniclers, to the loss of the graphic power and
vivacity of which they had given such splendid examples. There
is not a single anecdote or narrative drawn from life, not a trace
of a personal knowledge of events in the midst of which the
author had really lived and in which he had taken hi^ part.
He seems to be narrating deeds of the Greeks and Romans ;
he never deigns to speak of the internal affairs of the Republic ;
we hear only of great battles, and listen to long and solemn Latin
speeches recited by Florentines always in the Roman dress. In
point of fact Poggio's great object was the imitation of Li\'y's epic
narrati\'e, and although this made him lose the spontaneous quali-
ties of the old chroniclers, it at least compelled him to try and
link facts together in a literary if not a scientific way. And thus
began the transformation of the chronicle into histon,'. He and
Bruni were the precursors of Machiavelli and Guicciardini,
although in every respect very inferior to them. Of the two,
Bruni is the better critic, while Bracciolini has an easier style,
that, however, is frequently verbose. Sannazzaro accused the
latter of overweening partiality for his own country ; ^ but that
consisted chiefly in the tone he assumed in always speaking of
Florence as though it were the Republic of Rome,

Poggio Bracciolini, although the chief, was not the only repre-
sentative of this second period of Italian learning \ he was one of
a numerous band of other scholars, and of these the most cele-
brated was Leonardo Bruni, born in 1369, at Arezzo, and known

I

Sannozsaro wrote :

' Dum patriam Liudat, damnat dum Poggius hoslera ;
Nee malus est civis, nee bonus hisloricus."

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

«

^

N

therefore as the Aretino. We have already seen how, on the
arrival of Crisolora in Florence, he threw aside his legal studies to
devote himself entirely to Greek ; and so rapid was his progress
that he was soon qualified to translate not only the principal his-
torians and orators, but also the philosophers of Greece. He
thereby rendered an immense service to literature, for his versions
of the classic authors were the first from the original Greek, and
were not only written in elegant Latin, but were faithful transla-
tions, and appeared at a moment when the need for them was
great and universal. His versions of the " Apologia *^ of Socrates,
the **Phaedo," ** Krito," »* Gorgias," and **Phaedrus'^ of Plato,
and those of the Economical and Political Ethics of Aristotle,
were one of the great literary events of the age. On the one
hand it was a revelation of the Platonic philosophy, till then
almost unknown in Italy ; on the other, it was the first appear-
ance of what was called the true Aristotle, unknown in the Middle
Ages. The learned could now admire the eloquence which
Petrarch had vainly sought in the travestied and almost barbarous
Aristotle of his time ; they were no longer compelled to study
the Greek schoolman instead of the Greek philosopher.

Thus Bruni gave an immense impulse to philosophy and
criticism. His, in fact, was a critical mind, as we see even by his
Epistles, in which, for the first time, we find the opinion main-
tained that Italian was derived from the spoken Latin ^ which
differed from the written tongue, and this opinion he enforced by
arguments which show this scholar of the fifteenth century to
have been in some respects a true precursor of modern philology.*
These qualities are still more noticeable in his historical works,
first of which is his ** Storia di Firenze,^' from its origin down to
1401. Of this we may repeat what we have already said of
Bracciolini^s history, \vhich is its continuation. Here also the
internal conditions of the Republic are neglected to make room
for descriptions of great battles, speeches, and dissertations. Here,
too, local colouring is wanting, and Florentines appear in a Roman
dress. Bruni, as we have before remarked^ is inferior to Braccio-
lini in ease of style ; but he forestalled his friend in forsaking the
track of the chroniclers, and as he did not write of contemporary

* This letter is addressed to Flavio Biondo of Forli, and is also to be found in
the first number of a work now in course of publication, entilletl, ** I due priipi
secoli delta Letleralura Italiann," by A- BartoH : Milan, Valbrdi, The author*
like oiher men of learning, hold^ it in due consideration.

96

INTRO D UCTION,

events, had a freer scope for the display of his critical faculty*
In fact it does Aretino the greatest honour that he should hav^e
been the first who, rejecting at once all the fables current on the
origin of Florence, sought out in the classical writers the primi-
tive history of the Etruscans, and applied the same critical sagacity
to that of the Middle Ages/ Elsewhere we shall have occasion
to return to these historical works ; for the present it is enough
to remark that criticism gradually became one of the principal
occupations of this century, that was so eager in demolishing the
past.

Leonardo Aretino was a man of \^xy great personal weight in
Florence, where he filled many important offices, among others,
during a long period, that of secretary to the Republic*^ Dying
in 1444, he was succeeded by Carlo Marsuppini, of Arezzo, called
therefore Carlo Aretino. This latter wrote little, and nothing of
any importance ; he was, however, a renowned teacher, the for-
tunate rival of Filelfo in the Florentine Studio, and enjoyed great
fame, chiefly owing to the strength of his memory, which enabled
him to make a distinguished figure in public discourses. His first
lecture was loudly applauded, because, as Vespasian tells us, ^* the
Greeks and Latins had no writer left unquoted by Messer Carlo
that morning/^ 3 He displayed a great contempt for Christianity,
and a vast admiration for the Pagan religion.+ To him ^ as to
Bruni, solemn funeral honours were decret^d by the Republic.
Both bore the poet'S laurels on their bier ; both repose in Santa
Croce, the one opposite the other, beneath monuments equally
elegant, with inscriptions equally pompous^ despite the great
distance between the talent of the one and the other. Marsup-
pini^s funeral eulogy was read by one of his pupils, Matteo
Palmieri ; that of Bruni, on the other hand, was read by another
first-rate literary man, and was a solemn event. It was in the
centre of the public square, standing beside the bier on which lay
Bruni's body, with his volume of *' Storia Fiorentina'' on his

* An elegant edition of thb History, with Donalo Acdnoli^s trandation* w»
published at Florence, 1S56-60. j vols. Svo. Sig^nor Cirillo Monzani published
am accurate *' Discorso '* on Bmni in the ** Archivio Storico,'* new series, voL v.
part I, j)p, 29-59 ; |iart 2, pp. 3-34. See also ihe remarks upon Bracciolini's and
Bnini's histories made by Gervinus in hiswork* ^' Florentinische Historiographisc,"
published in the vol. entitled* '* Hislorische Schriften ** : Frankfurt, i M,, 1S33.

^ The first time in 1410 for a single year ; the second frona I427 lo 1444.
^ Vespasiano, "Vita di Cado d' Arezzo,"

* ibid.» Tiraboschij ** Storia dellfi Letteratura Italianat"

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

97

breasti that Giannozzo Manetti^ by many esteemed the first of
living liter ah\ pronounced his oration in the presence of the chief
magistrates of the Republic.

Yet no one can now read this oration without experiencing
great amazement that so harocco a composition should have
aroused snch universal applause in an age of so much culture and
devotion to the classics. Manetti begins by declaring that had it
been possible for the immortal muses {immor tales AIusie^ dwinaque
Cammia)^ to make a Latin discourse and weep in public, they
would hardly have left the task to him on so solemn an occasion.
Then narrating Bruni^s life^ he seizes the occasion of his nomina-
tion as secretary to the Republic, to run through the history of
Florence. He touches on his works and then branches off into
a dissertation on Greek and Latin authors, and particularly on
Cicero and Livy» placing Bruni above both, for the important
reason that the former not only translated from the Greek like
the one, but also wrote hist or\^ like the other^ thus uniting in him-
self the merits of both. Then^ the moment having arrived for
placing the wreath on the head of his deceased friend, he speaks
of the antiquity of this usage, and of the various wreaths, ctvtca^
mtjra/n\odsti/iona/is, tr/jstreftsiSy utuahs^ and continues his descrip-
tions through five large and closely written pages. He asserts
that Bruni had earned the wreath by his true poetic gifts, and
then digresses into a series of empty phrases, in explanation of
the signification of the word poet, and the nature of poetry ;
winding up with a pompous apostrophe, and crowning ** tlie
happy and immortal slumber of the marvellous star of the
Latins.*' ^

Manetti was born at Florence in 1396, and at the age of twenty-
five, on his father's death, left his counter to give himself up to
study with such exceeding ardour, that he oniy allowed himself
five hours* sleep. His house had a door opening into the garden
of Santo Spirito, where he used to study, and for nine years he
never crossed the Arno into the centre of the town.'' He acquired
Latin, Greek, and Hebrew ; wrote with great ease, and had an
** eternal, immortal ^' memory according to Vespasiano*s usual
phrase. But his chief excellence lay in his moral character. A
practised man of business^ religious, steadfast, and truly honest, the
principal effect of his studies was to give him a lofty ideal of life,

' Vide this oration in thu preface to Bruni's ** Epistole."
* Vespasiano, '* V^ita di G. JIanetti," sec li.

8

98 INTRODUCTION,

to which he was ever faithful in the various offices with which
he was entrusted. Vicar and captain of the Republic in many
cities distracted by hostile factions, he was able to inflict very
severe sentences, and impose heavy taxes, without ever being
accused of partiality. He refused to accept the customary dona-
tions, giving liberally from his own purse to all who were in need,
and establishing peace and concord wherever he went. He passed
his leisure hours in writing lives of Socrates and Seneca, De
dtgnitate et excellentia hommes^ and the history of the cities which
he successively inhabited. As a learned man he chiefly shone by
his orations, delivered in the various ambassadorial missions on
which he was sent in consequence of his celebrity as an
orator. In Rome, Naples, Genoa, and Venice, he was received
with the honours of royalty ; and so high was his reputation, that
by means of a Latin letter, he succeeded in regaining from the
Condottiere Piccinini eight horses that had been stolen by some
soldiers of his band. Being sent to congratulate Nicholas V. on
his election, in the name of the republic of Florence, people
crowded from the neighbouring cities to hear him, and the Pope
listened to him with such absorbed attention, that a prelate beside
him nudged his elbow several times thinking that his Holiness
had fallen asleep. ** When the oration was over, everybody shook
hands with the Florentines as though Pisa and its territory were
won,'* ' and the Venetian Cardinals wrote home to their govern-
ment that they ought to send an orator equal to Manetti for the
sake of the dignity of the State. At Naples King Alfonso sat
like a statue on his throne all the time Manetti was speaking.
Yet he was a speaker of no originality. His orations — of a false
and inflated style — are mere medleys of facts, collections of Latin
phrases, which was exactly what pleased best in those days, and
gave free scope for the display of his vast reading, powerful
memory, and prodigious facility for stringing together sonorous
periods. He was the author of many histories and biographies,
which had neither the vivacity of the old chroniclers, nor even
the merits of Aretino and Bracciolini. His treatises on philosophy
are empty dissertations ; his numerous translations from the Greek
and Latin are inferior to those of his predecessor Aretino. His
versions of the Psalter from the Hebrew and of the New Testa-
ment from the Greek prove his dissatisfaction with the Vulgate,
but do not support the theory of those who tried to attribute to
* Vespasiano, ** Vita di G. Manetti," sec. xv.

LEARNED MEN IN FLORENCE.

99

I

»

him a religious daring of which he was incapable. The last years
of his life were embittered by the envy that drove him from
Florence ; but he found protection at Rome and Naples, and
died in the latter city, where he was a pensioner of Alfonso of
Aragon^ on the 26th October, 145Q.

Although Alanetti's great reputation has not survived, he
merits an important place in the history of the fifteenth century,
precisely because his life is a proof that no profession or age,
however corrupt, need prevent a man from preserving true nobility
of mind. The same Pagan learning that was to entail so great
moral niin on Italy was used by him for the elevation of his whole
nature. Indeed it is plainly an error, though a very common one,
to condemn in one sweeping sentence the general character of the
learned men. We have already found ourselves forced to admire
Coluccio Salutati and Palla Stro^szi ; many other worthy charac-
ters are to be found among the less known men. This is sufficiently
proved by the biographies of Vespasiano whose excessive ingenu-
ousness may excite our blame, but can leave no doubt of the sin-
cerity of his admiration for virtue. He tells us of Messer Zem-
brino da Pistoia, who taught ^* not only letters, but morals/' and
abandoning every other employment to devote himself to philo-
sophy, ** lived a frugal and temperate life, giving all he had to the
poor, and contenting himself with hermit's fare. Also he was of
" thoroughly sincere mind, generous, without fraud or malice, as
all men ought to beJ^ Speaking of Maci^tro Paolo, a Florentine,
learned in Greek, Latin, the seven liberal arts, and also given to
astronomy, he adds» that he never held intercourse with woman ;
slept in his clothes upon a board beside his writing tabic \ lived
on vegetables and fruit ; " was devoted to virtue, and had placed
therein his every hope. . . . When not at study, he would
go and take care of sonit; friend/- ' All this notwithstanding, it
cannot be denied that the greater number of these crnditi had
no force of character, although ardently devoted to learning.
The continued exercise of the intelligence on questions that were
frequently of mere form ; the wandering life of courtiers com-
pelled to gain their bread by the sale of eulogiums ; the perpetual
rivalries ; the absence of all spirit of brotherhood or caste in the
exercise of their common work or office, and their moral destruc*
tiveness did not help to ennoble their characters. If, too, it be
added| that all this was going on at a moment in which liberty was

' S€« in Vespasiano the two ** Vite di Zembrino Plslokse t: di Maestio Pagolo/*

lOO

INTROD UCTION.

already extinguished, society decayed, religion scandalously pro-
faned by the Popes ; it >vill be easily understood what profound
moral corruption must have been rife in Italy, when the learned
were the expositors of virtue, the apportioners of glorj^, the repre-
sentatives of public opinion. But still we must not reftise to
acknowledge the handful of righteous men who escaped from
the general wreck. If we do not impartially take into account
alt the elements of culture and of the diverse natures of men» we
stand in danger of never being able to understand how the Italian
genius then contrived, amid so many dangers, to find sufficient
strength in itself to promote an extraordinary intellectual advance,
and avoid the total moral destruction^ to which perhaps another
nation might have succumbed under similar conditions.

3. Learned Mkn in Rome.

njT

After Florence, Rome is certainly the city of highest standing
in letters. From the days of Petrarch, the Popes began to feel
the need of having their Briefs composed by men of learning.
And during the Pontificate of Martin, the learned members of the
Curia already asserted the right of taking precedence at all public
ceremonies over tlie consistorial advocates, of whom they spoke
with much contempt.' P, Bracciolini was then the principal
personage among them, and with him were others of lesser fame^
such as Antonio Lusco, a writer of rhymed t^pistles and epigrams^
who had extracted the rules of rhetoric from Cicero's orations,
and composed a formulary for transacting the business of the Curia
in classical language.* But while in Florence men of learning
enjoyed an important social standing and great independence, in
Rome they merely formed a small clique^ and were subordinate
emphyh who, though generally well remunerated, could only
aspire to the condition of favoured courtiers. Still they daily in-
creased in number, obtaining posts in the Abbrcviahira^ where
there were as many as a hundred writers of Briefs^ or in the Pope's
private secretary's office, where the clerical dress had to be as-
sumed without the obligation of taking orders. The post of Ab-
hreviatorc or Brief writer was a permanent one ; that of secretary

' Voigt, ** Dif Wiedarbfk'bung/' .i:c., p, 279, note 3.

"VScripsit itein cxcmpb qujedam et velini formulas, quibus Romana Cum in
scribendo uteretur, quic etiain alj erutlitUsiitiiii viris in tisum recepta sunt " (Faciu&»
** Dc Viris illustribus," p. 3).

LEARNED MEN JN ROME.

lOI

aerally lasted only for the Pope*s litetimc% but as besides many
^uisites, it implied hopes of possible* favour and promotion :
with these offices it fetched a high price :{e wry thing could be
bought in Rorae)^ although the first was the itlore^ught after and
the dearer of the two.* *- ' • •

The golden age for men of letters in Rome w^s .the reign of
Nicholas V., who, had it been possible, would have collected,
within the walls of the Eternal Citv, all the manuscripts in the
world, all the men of learning and all the monuments of 'Bhai-
ence* The savings he made, and the sums received at the ju^irc^
in 1450, gave him the means to set to work upon his project.
The Curia and the Segreteria were quickly filled with learned
men, whom the Pope, who knew little or no Greek, employed in
making translations, for which he paid them largely. Valla was
entrusted with the translation of Thucydides, and on its comple-
ticin received five hundred crowns and a commission for the trans-
lation of Herodotus ; Bracciolini was charged with that of
Diodorus Siculus ; Guarino Veronese, who was at Ferrara, with
that of Strabo and the promise of five hundred crowns for each
part of the work : others received similar commissions. But
Nicholas V. could find no one able to undertake a rendering of
Homer into Latin verse, although he had sought everywhere, and
made most generous offers to Filelfo.

Theodore Gaza^ George Trapezunzio, Bessarion^ and many
other Greek exiles, also found their way to Rome, many of them
receiving similar offices and similar commissions. The majority
of them, however, were restless adventurers who had changed
their religion in the hope of gain, Bessarion, one of the converts,
was certainly a man of weight, learned, and a better Latin scholar
than most of his compatriots • he became a Cardinal, was
wealthy, and a diligent collector of manuscripts;^ He posed as a
a Aiaecenas, and Nicholas V. gave him the post of Legate at
Bologna, probably in order not to have him as almost his own
riv^al in Rome.

All this great company of translators and refugees, gathered

» Voigt, " Enea Silvio dei Piccolomini, als Papst Pitis der Zweile," iroL iii, pu
548 foL

^ His library^ in thirty cases, containinir six hundred \-ohimes, was left to Venice,
and formed the first nucleus of the Library of St. ^lark. Vcspasiano, ** Vita de
Card. Niceno;" Voigt, "Die Wiederbclebung/' ^S^c, Tlrnboschi, ** Gloria della
Lcitenituia Itaiiona. "

I02 mmoD ucTioN.

together at the Pope*s expense, may be called a medley of hetero-
geneous elements. They were undoubtedly useful in the diffusion
of the results of lajSo^f- begun in Florence, but they were incapa-
ble of any really] original work ; they doubtless produced many
useful translatious, but we may observe that whereas those of
Bruni, at FlorV^ce, had opened a new road to research, and were
made by a man who had undertaken them of his own free choice,
those purchased by Nicholas V. were, on the contrary, commis-
sion^*, works, often executed by learned men, such as Poggio
axid*'Valla, whose principal merit scarcely consisted in know-
l^ge of Greek, or by Greek refugees who knew very little Latin.
•The most notable productions of this Roman company of scholars
were works like the **.Facezie " and the " Invettive " of Bracciolini
or the " Antidoto " of Valla, in which, as we have seen, they hurled
vile insults at each other^s heads. The Pope might easily have im-
posed a check on this unedifying spectacle, but, on the contrary,
he seemed to take pleasure in it. But it is necessary to observe
that, under his pontificate, the learned men whom he protected
also published works on serious subjects and of high importance ;
these, however, were either not written in Rome, or written, as
we shall see, without his encouragement.

It was natural that one who had formed so great a workshop
of translators should also found a great library. And, in fact,
although before his time Martin V. had begun to collect
manuscripts, and later on Sixtus IV. opened to the public the
famous Vatican library, its true founder, as we have elsewhere
remarked, was Nicholas V. Enoch of Ascoli went all over the
world ransacking monasteries for manuscripts, furnished with
Briefs authorising him to transcribe or buy them.' Giovanni
Tortello, author of a manual of orthography for copyists," was
the librarian of this Pope, who, according to Vespasiano, collected
five thousand volumes, had them sumptuously bound, and spent
forty thousand crowns on them.3 He also began the restoration

* Tortellii, ** Commentariorum grammaticorum de Ortographia dictionum e
Graecis tractarum Opus," Vicentiae, 1479.

* Vespasiano, **Vite di Enoche d'Ascoli, di Niccolo V., di Giovanni Tor-
tello."

3 So he says in his "Vita di Niccolo V. ; " in that of *' Tortello," s. i. he says
instead : " Aveva fatto inventario di tutti i libri che aveva in quella libreria, e fu
mirabile cosa la quantity ch 'egli diceva avere, ch 'erano da volumi novemila."
Others give other numbers ; it is difficult to ascertain the exact number. Voigt,
" Die Wiederbelebung," &c., p. 364.

LEARNED MEN IN ROME.

103

of the streets, bridges, and walls of Rome ; he laid the foundations
of a new Vatican * he fortified the Capitol and the castle of St.
Angelo ; restored or rebuilt from the foundations a great many
churches in Rome, Viterbo, Afisisi, &c.» and constructed new for-
tresses in many cities of the State. In short* under Albertrs
advice, and with the help of Bernardo and Antonio Rosselli,
Nicholas V. was enabled to transform Rome into a great monu-
mental citVj thus rivalling not only the Medici^ but even the
greatest of the ancient emperors.* From all this it is easy to
understand how, without having any special talent » Nicholas has
succeeded in sending his name down to posterity'. It must also
be added that hi^ reign was made illustrious by the presence of
three men of singular ability, two of whom were in his employ.
And although, as we have already noticed, their principal works
were either written awav from Rome or mthout exciting any
attention on the part of the Pope ; yet they indirectly conferred
on him an honour that was quite undeserved, / The first of the
learned trio was Lorenzo Valla, whom we have seen among the
Papal secretaries and translators, but who had previously led a
very adventurous life. Of a Piacenza family, but born in Rome
(1406), he boasted of his Roman birth. Up to the age of twenty-
four he remained in Rome, where he was the pupil of Leonardo
Brum, and also, it would seem, of Giovanni Aurispa/ He then
went as professor to Pavna, where his restlessness of character and
originality of mind soon made him conspicuous. In that great
centre of legal studies, he fiercely attacked the doctrine of the
celebrated Bartolo, on account of his barbarous and scholastic
style. How, said he, could Bartolo, who was ignorant of the
classic language of antiquity, in which Roman jurisprudence ivas
and ought still to be written, and even ignorant of history, either
understand the real significance of Roman law, or properly com-
ment upon it. This audacity was considered rank heresy, and
made so much noise among the law students, that poor Valla had
to fly from Pavia and go to teach in other cities. 3

* Vespasiano, " Vita di Niccolo V T G. Manetti, in his ** Vita Nicolai V,,"* ^ves
minute detail of lhi'5 Pope s desi^s. See too VoigU ** Die Wdderbekbung,'*
&c. ; Gregorovius and Reumont in their historiL's of Rome.

■ The former was then a memher of the Curia ; but of the latter; who is sup-
po^d to have insinicted Vnlla in (jreck, il is not certain that he came lo Rome
before 1440. It is ditTicuh, ihereforc, to delerniine the dates. Vitk Tiralwschi,
"Storia deMa LcUeratura Italiana/' vol, vi* p. 1029 and foL

1 Poggio and Fazio even accuse him of having given a £il^e bond, and attribute

ICH

INTRODUCTION,

Yet, it was amid these agitations that he brought out his first
work, ^* De Voluptate et Vero Bono/^ * in which we find manifesta-
tions of original thought, and perceive that learning had already
given birth to the new spirit of the Renaissance. Comparing the
doctrines of the Stoics with those of the Epicureans^ Valla exalts
the triumph of the senses, and protests against all mortification of
Iht flej^h. Life's objects, he say^ frankly, are pleasure and happi-
ness, and these we ought to pursue according to nature's
^ command. Virtue itself, being derived from the will, not
I from the intellect, is a means for attaining beatitude, namely,
\l£ue happiness, which is ever incomplete on this earth. It is
impossible to explain all things by reason ; the dogmas of
religion often remain a mystery, and philosophy only seeks, as
far as may be, to expound them rationally • it is not even possible
to conciliate free will with divine prescience. Science is founded
on reason, — which is in harmony with the reality of things^ on
nature, — which is God. Truth manifests itself in a true, precise,
simple form ; logic and rhetoric are almost one and the same
thing \ a confused and incorrect style is a sign of badly under-
stood truths, of a false or incomplete science. — And for these
reasons Valla fiercely attacked scholastic philosophy, Aristotle,
and Boetius, continualiy appealing from authority to the healthy
use of reason, to reality, to nature, which hu exalted in a thousand
ways. This need of reality, this redemption of the senses, and of
nature, forms the new spirit that animates the whole book, con-
stitutes the special characteristic of \^alla's writings, is, in short,
the actual spirit of the Renaissance of which he was the incarna-
tion. There is here no question of a new system of philosophy ;
but one sees the triumph of nature and of good sense, and the
independence of reason presents itself to us as a logical conse-
quence of the reviv^al of antiquity.

This work woidd have been much more successful if Valla,
in his restless, quarrelsome spirit, and frequent love of paradox,
had not aljowed himself to be too much carried away by his
own pen. I In taking up the defence of the senses, he declares
that virginity is in opposition to nature, and makes Panormita
declare, that if nature^s laws are to be respected, courtesans are

lo that his flighu They were, however, his enemies, and not, therefore, credible
witnesses against him.

• It is dividctl inm three jiarts, Viik the edition of Valla's ** Opere,*' pub-
lished at Bask, 1543.

LEARNED MEN IN ROME. 105

of more use than nuns to the human race. Iln expounding and
defending the Epicurean doctrines against Ipr Stoics, in condemn-
ing and despising everything that impUes contempt of the
world, he lets slip many expressions contrary to the letter and
spirit of Catholic doctrines. And while protesting his inten-
tion of respecting the authority of the Church, his attacks
against the clergy were exceedingly %dolent, and far more formid-
able than those of Poggio and other learned men. Sarcasm was
their principal weapon ; that of Valla criticism, which had a far
deadUer effect. Therefore he had many bitter enemies^ and
was soon accused of being a heretic^ an epicurean^ and a blas-
phemer of everything that w^as sacred. Nor was his assertion
that for him divine beatitude consisted in true pleasure, true
happiness, considered a valid defence, for the most insolent and
daring phrases in his own work w^ere cast in his teeth, and the
most immoral actions of his life — which was certainly open to
attack — were brought up against him.

After teaching in various cities. Valla is found at the Court of
Alfonso of Aragop, between the years 1435 and 1442, was
appointed his secretary in 1437, and accompanied him in the
military enterprises which afterwards established that prince on
the Neapolitan throne.' In '43 he was in Rome, but had to fiy
that city^ and once more take refuge in Naples^ because of the
persecution that threatened him on account of his as then
unpublished work, *^ De falso credita et ementita Constantini
donatione.'- ^ Valla maintained that the donation of Constantine
was never made, could not be made, and that the original of
the pretended document had never been seen. Then by a critical
examination of the terms of the dcxument, he proved its falsity.
After this he fiercely attacked the simony of the clergy, openly
declaring that the Pope had no right to govern either the world
or Rome ; that the temporal power had ruined the Church, and
deprived the Roman people of liberty. He even incited them to
rise against the tyranny of Eugene IV., and against all Popes^
who from shepherds had become robbers and wolves. ^* Even
were the donation authentic/' he said, in conclusion, ''it would be

^ He says of this period : '*Tot praclia vidi» in quibus de salule quoque mca
agebatur,'* " Opera,'* Bask- edition, 1543, p. 273. The learned men, however,
were fond of boasting of the perils ihey encounlefedt whenever they accompanied
a prince on any warlike expedition »

^ Scchjs**Oiiera.''

io6

INTR0DUC710N.

nuJl and void, for Constantine could have no power to make it^
and in any case the crimes of the Papacy would have already
annulled it/^ He hoped to live long enough to see the popes
constrained to be mere pastors, with only spiritual power. It is
true that already during the Council of Basle, Cusano and
Piccolomini had maintained the falsity of the donation by means
of arguments which are also found in Valla,* But to him we
owe the thorough demolition of the false document , accomplished
by pungent criticism, and with all the impetus of his Ciceronian
eloquence. Besides, he did not confine himself to a literary and
theoretical examination, but sought to totally overthrow the
temporal power, by threatening to excite the population to revolt
against the reigning pontiff. It was no longer a matter of a
simple theological or historical dispute^ but this was the first
time that an already celebrated scholar^ after having exhausted
the critical \new of the case, rendered it popular, and gave it a
practical application.^

At that time Alfonso of Aragon was at war mth Eugene IV,^
and Valla, in taking up the cause of his protector, was able to
give full vent to his eloquence. Attacked by priests and friars,
he, safe in his vantage ground, returned to the charge in other
writings. In these he maintained that the letter of Abgarus to]
Jesus Christ, published by Eusebius, was false ; that it was false
that the Creed had been composed by the apostles, that in reality
it was the work of the Nicene Council Even before this he had
already discovered many errors in the Vulgate, and collected
them in a book of annotations, which Erasmus of Rotterdam
afterwards republished with an eulogistic letter of defence,^ These
writings and these disputes procured him a summons before the
Inquisition in Naples, but, assured of the king's support, he
defended himself partly by satires, and partly by declaring that
he respected the dogmas of the Church, which had nothing to do
with history, philosophy, or philology. As to the donation of

' Voigt, "Enea Silvio di Piccolomini, als Pabst Pius cler Zwdte," vol. ii.
P' 313; *'Die Wiederbelebung," &c, I p. 224. See also an arlicle by Professor
Ferri on Cusano in the ** Nuova Antologin/* year 7, vol, xx., May. i872t p. I09#
and fob
J* ** Lorenzo Valla, cin Vortmg,'' von Z. Vahlen. Berlin, F. Valilen, 1S70,
\ 26, and fob

In Novum Testnmentttm i diversantm utnusque lingUit loduum colhtiom
^atioms^ &c-, in Valla's ** Opera/'

LEARNED MEN IN HOME.

107-

Constantine, nothing was said about it^ in order not to re-open
so thorny a question.

Freed from this danger, he continued his lessons at the
university, and prosecuted literary disputes with Bartolommeo
Fazio and Antonia Panormita^ against whom he wrote four books
of invectives,' But besides these works he published others,
historical} philosophical, and philological, always dictated by
the same critical and independent spirit, and of these the
** Elegantise ** and the " Diaiectica " are the most noteworthy.
The first* speedily achieved great popularity, for in its pages
Valla displayed his mastery of classical Latin, which he wrote
with as much elegance as vigour. He also showed a — for those
times — very profound knowledge of grammatical theor}% and,
what is more surprising, slipped insensibly from philological to
philosophical questions. Language, he said, was formed in
accordance with the laws of thought, and for this reason grammar
and rhetoric were based upon dialectics of which they are the
complement and the application. Erasmus also occupied himself
with this work, and prepared and published an abbreviation of
it.^ In this, as well as in the " De Voluptate et Vero Bono," we
aee all the author's originality and the mo%'ement of learning
-towards criticism and philosophy. His *' Diaiectica,'' an exclu-
sively philosophical work, is of very inferior merit ; but this,
too, strikes the same chord, namely, that the trut- study of
thought must be prosecuted by study of language,*

* ** In Bartholomcum Fndum ligurcm, Invectivarum sivc Reciiminalionum,
libri iv,'^ The cau^ of this dispute was a criticism by Fmtio on Vaila'^i '* Life of
the Father of King Alfonso/'— L. Vallae, '* Historianim Fer<iinandi regis
Aiagonia, libri iii/* Parisiis i^r Robert iim Stcphanutn. In replying to Fazio,
Valla also attacked Panurmila.

* ** Eleganlmrutn, libri vi./' in Valla*s **Opere."

3 ** Paraph rxsis, seu polius Epitome in F'legamiarum libros Laiir, Vallae.**
Paiisiis, 1548. — ** Paraphrosii. luculenta et brevis in Elegantias Vallae/' Venetiw,

^ Riltcr» ** Geschichle der neuem Philosopbie," part i, p- 252, notes in fact ihe
superiority attributed by Valla to " Rhetoric" over ** Dialectics" : ** Noch viel
reicber is die Ketlekunst, welchc cin imerschopflicbes Getlachtniss, Kenntniss der
Sachen und der Menscben voraussetz, allc Arten der Scbliissc gebrancht, nicht
allein in ihrer einfachen Natur, wiesie dieDiakktik lehrl, sondern in den niannig-
fattigsten Anwendungen auf die vcrschiedensien Verballnisse der olfenLlichen
Gcschifte nach der Lage der Sachcn, nach der Verschiedenhcit der Horcnden
abgeandert. Dieser reichen Wissenschaft solle die philo&tjpbiscbe Dialektik
dicncn (*DiaK/ diop. u, |>raefaiioJ. Das mcint Valla, wenn er die Philosophie

io8

INTROD UCTION,

Amid so many battles and so much literary activityt enjo^nng
the protection of so magnificent a monarch as Alfonso, and resi*
dent in a cit)^ that had always shown a singular aptitude for
philosophical studies, Valla might have been content. Yet he
always yearned for Rome, since that was the great literary
centre, and his present position was far from secure. The king
might be reconciled with the Pope, might be succeeded by his
son, and all things be suddenly changed. In fact, before long
the Aragonese were once more in agreement with the Holy See,
and Valla had to take care of himself. With the lightness that
was special to the learned men, he then decided to retract all the
perilous doctrines which he had hitherto maintained, especially
those touching the donation of Constantiiie, which, in the judg-
ment of his adversaries, were all the more dangerous, the less
they were talked of. He began by writing letters to several
Cardinals, stating that he had been moved by no hatred for the
Papacy, but by lov^e of truth, religion, and glory. If his work
was of man, it would fall of itself, if of God, no one could over-
throw it. Furthermore — and this was the most important point
— if it were true that with a pamphlet he had wrought great
harm to the Church, they ought to recognize that he was able
to work it equal good. But all this did not suffice to pacify
Eugene IV., and Valla, who went to Rome in 1445, soon returned
to Naples, whence he wrote an apology addressed to the Pope,
to whom he promised a complete retractation-' In this he
repelled the accusations of heresy, brought against him by the
malice of his enemies, and ended by saying : ** If I sinned not,
restore my good fame to its pristine purity ; if I sinned, pardon
me,'^

But not even this submission obtained the wished-for result.
Only on the election of Nicholas V. (1447), Valla was immediately
sent for and employed in making translations from the Greek, of
which he had no great knowledge. There in Rome, he spent his
days amid lessons, translations, and literary quarrels with Trape-
zunzio and Poggio, without at all concerning himself with religious

unler tier Obcrbefehl der Rede stclkti will." This is the idea he expounds in the
*' Dialectica," but in the *' Eleganze " he goes still farther, and seeks to discover
philosophy and logic in language.

* **Ul si quid retractalionc opus est, et quasi ablutione» en tibi me nudum
ofiero.** '* Ad Eugeniiim IV,, Pont» Apologia : Vallae Opp»" The letters to
Cartlinals Scaramixj and Landriani are to be found in ihc " Kpistol^t Kegum et
Principum,'* Argentina.* per Lazar* Zet^enerum A, 1595, pp. 3J6 and 341.

LEARNED MEN IN ROME.

1 09

questions. He was secretary to the Curia and even Canon of St
John Lateran^ which was afterwards the burial-place of this
pretended religious innovator, who had been a man of little
principle, of immoral habits, and of very great literary, critical,
Land philosophical talent. He ceased to live on the ist of August,

At this time there was another scholar of great ability in Rome,

[and this was Flavio Biondo, or Btondo Flavio, as some call him ;

^bom at Forli in 1388 ; he was secretary to Eugene IV., Nicholas

v., Calixtus III., and Pius H,, was used by all and neglected by

[ all to such an extent that from time to time he attempted to better

^ his fortune elsewhere. Yet he had served Eugene IV. through

good and evil fortune with unshaken fidelity^ and had dedicated

.some of his principal works to him ; he had done the same to

[Nicholas V., the Maecenas of all learned men, and to Pius II, ,

l>who made use of his works, and even epitomized one of them,

[to give it the elegance of style that it lacked. This in fact was

^Biondo^s great defect, and that helped to keep him almost

unknown amongst the Humanists, many of whom were not

worthy of comparison with him. He did not know Greek, was

not an elegant Latinist, was neither a flatterer, nor a writer of

invectives j he had but one dispute with Bruni, and that was

wholly literary and scientific, on the origin of the Italian

language, and was free from personalities. His epistles contain

neither bon mots nor elegant phrases, therefore the}' were never

collected, and no one wrote his biography. Yet his was one of

the purest characters and noblest minds of that century, and his

works have a keenness of historic criticism to be found in none

of his contemporaries.

Biondo^s first work, dedicated to Eugene IV., and entitled
**Roma Instaurata/^ is a description of Pagan and Christian
Rome and its monuments. It is the first serious attempt we
lliave of a complete topography of the Eternal City ; the author
opens the way towards a scientific restoration of the monuments,
and refers to classic authors with singular critical power. Also,

* Tiralxischi, '*S. L. L/' voL vi. p. 1029 and fol. ; Voigt» **Die\Vieclerbelebuiig,"
&Cf, p. 294 and fol. ; Voigi, •* Pius 11. , und seine ZcU/* vol. i. p. 237 ; Zunipt,
" Leben und Verdleaste des L. Valla/' in voL iv. uf *' Zeitschrift fiir Gescbicht-
jiwisscnschaftt" von A» Schmidt ; RiUcr, ** Gcschicbte der ncuem Philosuphie/'
part i. InverniMtt '* II Risorgimerito " (fifteenth anfl sixteenth centuries), chap.
iii. ; this waik forms part of the '*Storia d'ltalia '* in course of publication at
Milan : Vallardi and Co.

no INTRODUCTION.

it is still more worthy of notice that antiquity by no means
makes him forgetful of Christian times : '* I am not,** he says, **of
those who forget the Rome of St. Peter for the Rome of the
Consuls." Thus his learning gained a wider and deeper basis,
for it corn prised the Middle Ages and his own time. His second
work was the '^Italia Illustrata/' written at the instance of
Alfonso of Aragon, and dedicated to Nicholas V. In tliis he
gave a description of ancient Italy, defined its different regions
and enumerating its principal cities, investigated their monu-
ments, their ancient and modern history, and their celebrated
men. His third work, dedicated to Pius H., was " Roma
Triumphans," in which he undertook to examine the con-
stitution, customs, and religion of the ancient Romans, thus
making the first manual of antiquity. FinallVi not to mention
his book *' De Origine et Gcstis Venetorum ; *' he wrote a history
of the decline of the Roman Empire, ** Historiarum ah inclinatione
Roman orum,*^ &:c., a work of vast bulk, of which, however, we
have only the three first decades and the beginning of the fourth.
The author's intention was to bring it down to his own times ;
but even in its unfinished state, it is the first universal history of
the Middle Ages worthy of the name. And Biondo has an admi-
rable method of seeking out the fountain heads and distinguishing
contemporaneous from posterior or anterior narrators, by carefully
comparing them with each other. It was first in this work that
history began to be a science, and historic criticism came into
e.xistence. We shall have occasion to refer to it again, when the
moment comes for observing that Machiavelli made great use of
it in the famous first book of his '* Istorie,'^ sometimes translating
literally from it. And even Pius II. recognized the great import-
ance of the work, by making a compendium of it in order to give
it a classic mould. He also made frequent use of other of Biondo's
works J while leaving the author to pass his last days in poverty
and almost unknown (1463).*

The third learned man whom it is requisite to mention is Enea
Silvio dei Piccolomini, the same who succeeded Nicholas V. as Pius

' Voigt, " Die Wkilerbckljung/' &c. ; Gregorovms,' ** Gcschichte der Stadt
Rom,/' vol. vjL p. 577 (2nil L-tlitJon) ; Tiralxischi, **S. L. I./' vol. vL p. 635 and
foK The '• Roma Inst aura ta " and " Italia 1 1 lustra la '^ were printed for the first
lime '* Komtie in domo nob» v. Johannis de Lignamine, 1474," and reprinted with
all Biondo's other works at Basle in 1559* They were afterwards translated into
ItaHan.

LEARNED MEN IN ROME.

Ill

IL (1458-64). AVe have already had a glimpse of him at the
Council of Basle J where he supported the election of the Anti-
Pope FulLx v., to whom he was secretary ; later, we saw him In
the Imperial Chancery, where he remained many years and
changed his opinions, becoming a supporter of the Papal autho-
rity in opposition to the ideas of the Council, which he had
previously upheld. In his youth he had given free play to his
natural frivolity and versatility of talent, and had uTitten verses,
comedies, coarse tales, and letters, in which he spoke with sarcastic
c^^nicism of the dissolute life that he led. As a scholar he was
wanting in knowledge of Greek and the Grecian authors, of whom
he had only read a few translations sent to him from Italy ; of
the Latin authors, however, especially Cicero, he had made very
prolonged study ; he aimed at ease and simplicity of style, and
Poggio Bracciolini was his beau idcaL His writings had a spon-
taneous dash, chiefly resulting from the practical nature of his
intellect, from his knowledge of mankind, and of the world.
He differed from all the other learned men in this, that in his
writings he always tried to go straight to the practical and real
point, without indulging in too many classic reminiscences. Even
in hiii obscene works, instead of trying effects of style and citing
examples from tht ancients, he narrated real facts from his own
life or that of his friends. His ** Orations in Council '• were certainly
no specimens of great eloquence, but they had a clear intention^
and sought to reach a definite end. In the ^* Epistole • * he
either treated of affairs or described the places he lived in j and
thus we often find the poor secretary of the Imperial Chancery in
despair at being among Germans who drink beer from morning
to night. The students (as now) swallowed enormous quantities
of it ; a father awakened hts children in the night in order to
make them drink wine.

But meanwhile Piccolomini was certainly the first to propagate
Italian humanism in Germany, and fir many years his letters
formed tlie connecting link between the two countries, and hence
have much historical importance. Piccolomini had neither the
weight of an independent thinker, the erudition of a true
Humanist, nor the patience of the collector ; but in him the
vivacity, readiness, and spontaneity of the man of letters, who is
at the same time a man of the w^orld, reached so high a pitch
that he may Justly be called an original writer. He w^as no
philosopher ; indeed, in this respect he was so imbued vdth

tI2

INTRODUCTION.

i

antiquity as to wish to confound the Greek and Roman vAih the
Christian philosophy. In such matters he was out of his real
element ; this is plainly seen when he turns to subjects relating
to philosophy, but of more practical tendency, as, for instance^
education. Then he makes few quotations from Aristotle and
Plato^ but notes instead observations derived from his own
experience. He never succeeded In composing any really scien-
tific treatises, and their most attractive parts are always his
descriptions of scenery and manners. Thus when writing " De
curialium miseriis/* ' the best part of his book is that in which he
relates the unhappy life which he himself led with the subordi-
nates of the Imperial Chancery ; their travels, their life in common,
the badness of the inns, the \ile cookery, the absence of quiet.' In
other works of his we find descriptions of the countries through
which he had travx*lled, of natural scener\% customs, institutions.
These things in short are those that he saw most clearly and
describes to us most graphically. Although no traveller in search
of unknown regions, nature is ever fresh, ev^er admirable to
him ; he can always hear its voice. Even after he was Pope,
and was old and infirm, he would have himself carried over the
hills and valleys to Tivoli, Albano, and Tusculo, to enjoy the
beauty of the scenery, which he so graphically describes in his
*^ Commentarii," that to this day they would make a good
guide for visitors to those places. The character and the variety
of the vegetation, the mountain and river systems, the philological
deriv^ation of their names, the different local customs ; nothing
escapes him ; everything is harmoniously arranged. He also
wrote descriptions of Genoa^ Basle, London, and Scotland, noting
the extent of the latter country, its climate, customs, food, manner
of living, construction of the houses, and the political opinions of
the inhabitants. There is a description by him of Vienna which is
so vivid that to this day fragments of it are given in the most
recent guides to that city. 3 Its extent, the number of its inhabi-
tants, the life led by its professors and students, its political and
administrative constitution ^ its mode of life and street scandals^
the condition of the nobles and burgesses^ its justice^ its police,

Mt is a treadse. in ihc form of a letter, to Giovanni Aich, dated 30th Novem-
ber, 1444.

» "Ot^ra." Bask: Hiipi>ef. 1551, vol. t. pp. 91-93-

3 ♦* Wiener BaetJekcr, Fiihret durch Wicn und Umgebungen,'* von. B* Biicher
und K. Weiss. Zweiic Auflagc : Wien, Faesy und Frichi 1870* pp. 43i 44*

LEARNED MEN IN ROME.

^n

I of to-day J

k

I

everything seems to bear the same stamp as the Vienna \
He dot^s not write as a learned man ; he is a simple traveller
impelled by his own curiosity to observe and describe all that he
sees. Piccolomini is a man of his time, his qualities are in the
v^ry atmosphere he breathes^ and his want of individual origi-
nality makes him show them all the plainer. He livxd, it is true,
in the age of the men of learning, but that was also the age which
gave birth to Christopher Columbus and moulded his genius.

It is for these reasons that Piccoloniini*s historical and geogra*
phical writings were his most important worksj and that their
principal merit lies in the author's descriptions of things and men
actually seen by him, and when Historyj Geography, and Ethno-
graphy presented themselves to him as one science. He had only
a fragmentary knowledge of Greek and Roman history ; he treated
but slightly of that of the Middle Ages^ taking much from Biondo
and others. Still he examined the writers of whom he made use»
the epoch, value, and credibility of their works, for criticism ran
in the blood of the men of that time. But he never arrived at
any true scientific severity or method ; he stnmg together his
information in a confused way» from memory and from memoranda
in which he had noted down what he saw, read, or heard. This
mode of composition, joined to the mobility and mutability of his
character, made him at different times express very different judg-
ments upon the same subject ; for he always wrote under the
impression of the moment. This, however^ increases the spon-
taneity of his writings, and aliows us to read in the mutabihty of
his opinions the history of his mind.

He long meditated a species of ^' Cosmos/^ in which he intended
to write of the geography of all then knowm countries, and their
history from the beginning of the century to his own day. His
**Europa'^ is a fragment of this colossal work, that was n^s^^^x
completed, and in it he makes geography the substratum of
history. He treated of the different nations without order, with-
out proportion, often writing from memory, according to his
custom. Later, he wrote the geography of Asia, making use of
the traditions of the Grecian geographers, and of the travels of
Conti, the Venetian, who had been twenty-five years in Persia,
and of which Poggio's works contained a very minute narrative,
taken from the traveller's own lips.' Piccolomini's last and most

* **E[ml." 165, Basle edi Lion, 1571,

* Poggii, *' De varictate fortunx," Parisiis, 1723, This work bqjias with a
VOL, r. 9

114

INTRODUCTION.

important work is the autobiography^ written when he was already
Pope^ and which, in imitation of Julius C^sar, he styles his
^* Commentaries/' These he was accustomed to dictate in inter-
vals of leisure ; they are therefore made up of fragments loosely
strung together, but perhaps for that very reason give a just idea
of the author's intellectual qualities, and show the many and ver-
satile merits which are scattered through his other works. In
this, we see him in his varied aspects, as the scholar, the poet^
the describer of foreign countries, the enthusiast for nature, the
genre painter, and the mind imbued with a spirit of thoroughly
modern realism,' Here are those descriptions of the Roman
Campagna, Tivoli, the valley of the Anio, Ostia* Monte Amiata,
the Alban Hills, which may still serve as travellers* guides, and
almost make you feci the rush of mountain breezes ; here, too, if
with little order ^ is the image of a whole century, faithfully re-
flected in the mind of the writer, who just because he lacks indi-
vidual character and personality, never gives a subjective tint to
the things and men he describes. These '' Commentaries^' extend
from the year 1405 to 1463^ and were carried on by another hand
down to 1464.^

AH that we have related of Valla, Biondo, and Piccolomini will
clearly show that, although the learned men of Rome had neither
the importance nor special character of those of Florence, still
the Eternal City was always a great centre, to which the learned
thronged from all parts of Italy, and soon from all parts of Europe.

long Introduction, in which the author speaks of the ruined condition of the
monuments of Rome, The first book describes the niinSp and then goes on to
norrate the deeds of Tamerlane, iind the misfortunes of Baijazet. In the second
book, Antonio Lasco speaks of the vicissitudes of Europe, from 1377 to the death
of ilartin V, The third contains a conipeDdium of ihc history of Itnly under
Eugene IV, The fourth, which is like a separate work, and has been frequently
translated, contains an account of India and Persia, which Pog^o derivetl from
Conti, who had been beyond the Ganges. It is certainly one of the most im-
portant works Poggio has left, and in it one finds a little of ever)" thing ; philosophy,
descriptions of Italian |x>licy in the fifteenth century^ Eastern travels, <S:c.

' Paolo Cortese says : *' In eo primum apparuit siuculi mutati signum " ('" De
Cardinalatu," p. 39, edition of 1510).

"'' The ** Commentarii" were revised and partly retouched by Giannantonio
Campano, Bishop of Teramo. Giovanni Gobcllino (Gobel or Gobel) continued
them from April ''^'^ to April '64- See Gregorovius, *'Geschichle," Ac.^ vol. vii.
p, 599, and fob (second edition). Voigt has given a complete biography of this
Pope in his work, ** Enea Silvio dei Piccolomini als Papst Pius der Zweite unci
Seine Zeitalter/' Berlin : G. Meyner, 1S56-63, in 5 vols. See vol. i. chap- 12
e passim ^ vol. ii. book iii. chap. 6-1 1.

J

LEARJVEI> MEN IN ROME.

J15

I

After the death of the three scholars mentioned abo%x% we find
flourishing there Poniponio Leto, Platina^ and the Roman
Academy. The first of these was better known for eccen-
tricity than for talent , and was generally believed to be a
natural son of Prince Sanseverino of Salerno. A pupil of Valla,
whom he succeeded as teacher, he left his family in order to come
to Rome ; and it is said that when they summoned him home^ he
replied with his celebrated letter — ** Pomponius Latus cognatis ei
J>rQf>tnquts suis sahitcm. Qnoti pctiiis, fieri mm potest. Fa/ete^
Inflamed with an enthusiastic ardour for Roman antiquity^ he led
the life of a hermit, cultivating a vineyard he possessed, according
to the precepts of Varro and Columella ; going before daybreak
to the Uni%'ersityi where an immense audience awaited him ;
reading the classics, and passing long hours in contemplation of
the monuments of old Rome^ which often moved him to tears.
He arranged representations of the comedies of Plautus and
Terence » and became the head of a large group of learned men^
whom he gathered into the Rtiman Academy, of which he was
the founder. Every member of this Academy was rebapti^ed
with a Pagan name, and on the recurrence of the Roman f}fsti\
especially on the anniversary of the foundation of Rome^ they all
met at a dinner, during which compositions in verse and prose
were read aloud.' At these meetings republics and paganism
ivere discussed ; and it was here that Platinap and many other
learned men, whnm Paul IL had dismissed from the secretaries
office, came to vent their rage against the Pope. He was an
energetic and impatient man and soon dissolved this academy ;
maiiy of its members were imprisoned, a few even put to torture,
others sought safety in flight (146S), Pomponio Leto was in
Venice, and was sent back to Rome, where he saved himself by
making his submission and asking pardon. =" He was thus enabled
to reopen his academy under Sixtus IV., and it lasted until the
sack of Rome in 1527. He died in I4q8 at the age of seventy,
and was buried with great pomp. He published several editions
of the classics, and some works on Roman antiquities ; but his

» Jovii, ** EU:>gia doctorum virorum," Tir*aboschi, *'S. L. L," vol. vi. pp. 107,
210, 644-49 ; Burckhardt ; Gregorovius, **Gcschichte,*' Sec, vol. vii.

* **Fateor ct me enrasse, peccasse et itleo penas mereri. . . . Rursus pet or,

vnuam, ad pedes me Pauli Punt, ckmentiisimi esse credatii> qui solita pielate ct

misericordia omnibu-s parcit," &c. So runs the confession, of which Grcgorovius

I could not find the original, but only a copy in the Vatican; *' Geschichte de

Stadl Rom." (second edition) ^ p» 587, and fol.

ii6 INTRODUCTION.

chief importance consisted in his teaching, in the Pagan enthu-
siasm that he had the power of communicating to others, and
in his simple and exclusively studious life.

Another member of the Academy, and one of greater ability,
was Bartolommeo Sacchi, of Piadena, in the Cremonese territory,
sumamed Platina. First imprisoned for protesting against the
loss of his office, he was again shut up in St. Angelo, when the
Academy was dissolved ; being put to torture, he not only yielded,
but made a most abject submission to the Pope, promising to
obey him in all things, to celebrate him with highest praise,* to
denounce to him whoever should speak ill of him. And all this
he said while nourishing an intense desire for revenge. Freed
from prison, and named Vatican librarian by Sixtus IV., with the
obligation of collecting documents on the history of the temporal
power, he revenged himself in his " Vite dei Papi,** by describing
Paul II. as the most cruel of tyrants, whose delight it was to
torment and torture the learned in the castle of St. Angelo, of
which he had made a true tower of Phalaris. As Platina's
biographies achieved great popularity, Paul II. descended to
posterity as a monster, and the scholar attained his end. The
book\s principal merit, and the cause of its success, lay in the
style, the author's historic criticism being poor enough. Yet he
attempted a most difficult undertaking, for which, in these days,
the powers of no one man, however learned and gifted, \vould
suffice, and he was the first to succeed in extracting from the
fabulous chronicles of the Middle Ages, a manual of history of
great clearness, comprising many specimens of the learned bio-
graphy of the fifteenth century, the which are pleasant reading,
because the author sincerely souj^ht for historic truth, if he did
not always succeed in finding it. As he approached his own
times, the value and importance of his biographies increase,
always excepting when he is blinded by passion. His remaining
historical works have less merit. He died in the year 1481 at the
age of sixty-one.^

* *' Tibi polliceor, etiam si a praetervolantihus avibus aliquid contra nomen
salutemque tuam sit, audiero, id statim Uteris aut nunciis Sanctitati tuae indica-
turum. Celebrabimus et prosa et carmine Pauli nomen, et aurcam hanc aitatcm,
quam tuus felicissimus iwntificatus efficit." This letter, by Platina, to be found
in Vairani, ** Monum. Crcmonensium," vol. i. p. 30 is quoted by Gregorovius,
'* Geschichtc," &c., vol. vii. p. 588 (second edition).

= (iregoro\'ius, ** Geschichte," &c., vol. vii. p. 603, and fol. (second edition) ;
Tiraboschi, ** S. L. I.," vol. vi. p. 317, and fol.

LEARNED MEN IN ROME.

117

As wc have already noted, Rome was the resort, not only of
Italians, but also of foreigners, particularly Germans^ and among
these latter are three youths deserving special mention. Conrad
Schweinheim, Arnold Pannartz, and Ulrkh Hahn, came from
the workshops of Faust and Schoffer, and were the men who
introduced the art of printing into Italy about the year 1464,
They had to tight against starvation, and overcome immense
difficulties, for in Italy so great was the passion for ancient manu-
scripts, that many — among others the Duke of Urbino — ^p referred
written to printed volumes. Yet the new industry rapidly spread,
and before the year 1490 printing presses were already at work in
more than thirty of our cities. In 146Q the famous Cardinal
Niccola di Cusa, also called the Cusano, died, and was buried in
Jt. Piero in Vincoli : he was the son of a fisherman of the Moselle,
'had studied at Padua, and became one of the most illustrious
thinkers of the age. He preceded Piccolomini and Valla in
doubting the authenticity of the donation of Constantine, but he
did not combat the temporal power of the Holy See. He after-
wards somewhat modified his opinions, and was raised to the
cardinalate^ always, however, preserving great integrity of cha-
racter. Opposed to the authority of Aristotle, he had a philo-
sophic intellect of very great originality ; a pantheist and the true
precursor of Giordano Bruno, he was a deep thinker as well as
scholar/ In 1461 another foreigner made his fir^t appearance in
Rome, Johann MuUer, better known as the famous Regiomontanus,
a learned Greek scholar of highest eminence in the mathematics
and astronomy of the time. Sixtus IV. entrusted him with the
improvemeat of the calendar, and he died at Rome in 1475. In
1482 came Johann Reuchlin, who afterwards caused Argiropulos,
then professor in the Roman University, to exclaim that the

■ Rilter, "Gcschichle der neuem Philosopbie '* ; Gregorovius, **Geschtchte/'
&Cm vol. vii. p, 592 {second edition) ; Fern, '* II Card Niccolo di Cusa e la
Filosofia della Rellgione " (** Nuova Antologia/' vol, xx., seventh year, May, 1872,
p, 100 and foL), In this article ihe author examines the philosopnical sy&lem of
Cu&ano: ** It* ruling idea/' he says, *• is the Absolute, conceivable, but incom-
prehensible in its inhnitude; niinimnm ami maximum, beginning and entl of all
existence ; from it arise the contradictions that it Ijrings into harmony. The idea
of Cusano is not the identity of thought and beings but is only an image of the
absolute truth. The human intellect remains distinct from the divine^ but Creation
is a development of the world from God, not a Creation ex nihih. The Dialeciic
of CiLsano does not reach like llegels to the identiiy of thought and being, his
system is not yei pure Panthciiim, for it admits uf two orders of existence, the
finite and the infinite," Bruno went a step farther upon this road.

^^

1X8

INTROD UCTION.

Grecian Muses passed the Alps in order to emigrate to Germany.*
There in fact learning had been widely propagated and had already
borne fruit. The sun of the new ItaUan culture, risen high above
the horizon, now illumined the whole of Europe ; but its light
still proceeded from Italvi the ancient cradle of knowledge.

From the death of Paul 11. to that of Alexander VL, matters in
Rome went fr<mi bad to worse, and the Popes had other things ta
think of than scholars, learnings or the fine arts. However, Sixtus
IV. opened the Vatican to the public, and completed many impor-
tant constructions in the city. Neither, for a long time, did the
Koman people lose their admiration for all that was ancient^ as an
incident that happened during that period serves to show% In
April, 1485, a rumour spread that some workmen, digging in the
Appian Way, near the tomb of Cecilia Metella, had discovered a
Roman sarcophagus, containing the remains of a beautiful and
well-formed maiden^ according to the epitaph, Julia filia Cl.\udi:
** whose blond tresses were adorned with many and very rich pre-
cious stones^ and tied with gold and a ribbon of green silk." » The
workmen carried oil the jewels ; but an indescribable enthusiasm
reigned throughout the city. It was said that this corpse had the
colour and freshness of life, that its eyes and mouth were still open.
It was carried to the Capitol, and forthwith a sort of religious
pilgrimage began of people coming to admire, describe, and
delineate it with pencil and brush. It may perhaps have had a
waxen mask, hke those found at Cumae and elsewhere ; but every
one then believed that an ancient beauty must be infinitely
superior to any hving one. This was the idea and illusion of the
age, yet already it began to seem like the echo of a. world on the
point of change. Harsh reality was preparing new and very bitter
experiences ; under Innocent VJII. and Alexander VI. all things
went to ruin in Italy.

4. AfnjLx AND Francesco Filelfo.

The other cities of Italy are of much less importance than
Florence and Rome in the history of letters. In Republics such as

* GrcgoroviUR, ** Geschichte," etc., p. 596,

* Matarajuco, ** Cronacn di Perugia " in the " Archivio Stonco/' vol. xvi. part ii,
p, 180. The MS. ha-s a gap which prevented its ctliton. from setring the date of
the year. See Nantiporio in Muratori's '* Scriptorest" vol. ii. part 2. coL 109 ;
sec Infessiira in Eccanh " Script ores/' voL ii. coL 1951; Bttrckhardt* "Die
Renaissance/' p, 1S5 (ist edition).

MILAN AND FRANCESCO FILELFO.

119

I

they began to floi;rish much later than in Tus

Genoa and Venice

cany. Naples had been too long in a state bordering upon
anarchy, and at Milan there was little to be hoped under the rule
of a monster such as Filippo Maria Visconti, a Cnndnttiere such
as Francesco Sforza, or of so dissolute and cruel a youth as his son,
Galeazzo Maria. Yet such was then the state of the national
spirit, that no one could or might keep entirely aloof from
studious pursuits ; Visconti himself felt the need of reading
Dante and Petrarch, and tried to collect a few learned men round
him. It was, however, difficult to find any one willing to stay
long wdth him. Panormita, though by no means a scrupulous
man, could not be induced to remain , even by a salary of eight
hundred zecchins, and departed to seek his fortunes elsewhere.
The only man fitted for that Court was Francesco Filelfo of
Tolcntino, who there found a secure asylum whence to insult his
enemies with impunity, and live by adulation and the traffic of his
pen. This man believed himself and was generally believed to be
one of the greatest intellects of the age : but on the contrary he
was totally wanting in originality, and his acquirements were very
confused and open to dispute. Having been stnt by the Venetian
Republic as ambassador to Constantinople, where he married the
daughter of his Greek master, Emmanuele Crisolora^ he came
back to Italy in 1427, at the age of twent\'-nine. He brought a
good store of manuscripts, spoke and wrote Greek, had a great
facility for the composition of Latin verses, and that was quite
sufficient in those times to establish his reputation as an extra-
ordinarj' man. His enormous inanity and restless temperament
did the rest. Sent for to teach in the Florentine Studio, he speedily
wrote to all of his great success ; '*Even noble matrons,'* said he,
**give way to me in the streets/' However, he was soon at war
with everybody. He was a bitter enemy of the Medici, and
advised the execution of Cosimo, at that time a prisoner in the
Palazzo Vecchio ; ^^ ' at last he had to take refuge in Sienna, where

' One of the Satires he WTote at this time, concluded ibus i
*' . * . Vobis res coram publica sese
OflFert in medium, referefis stragcsque necesque
\^enturas, iibi forte niiniis pro lege vel aequo
Supplicium fuerit de sonle nefando ;
Am eriam offidum colblum muncre civis
Namt|ue relcgatus* si culpx nomine mulctara
Pendent, ofticiet roagnis vos cladibus omnes."

(Philelphi, Saiinc quarta? decadis hecatostica prima.)

120

INTRODUCTION,

he ran the danger of behig killed by one whom he believed to be
an assassin in the pay of the Medici in that place- And meanwhile
in Florence he was tried and condemned as a conspirator against
the livxs of Cosimo, Carlo Marsuppini, and others.

At Sienna he wrote his obscene " Satire '' against Poggio ; later
we find him at Milan, where he received a stipend of seven huo*
dred zecchins per year, and a house to hve in, and wrote in
exalted terms of the virtue, and particularly the liberality of
his **di\ine prince," Filippo Maria Visconti, that tyrant almost
unrivalled for perfidiousness and cruelty. On the death of Visconti
and the proclamation of the Ambrosian Republic at Milan, he
lauded the new Conscript Fathers, and then formed part of the
deputation that bore the keys of Milan to Francesco Sforza, in
whose honour he wrote his great poera, ** The SforziadJ'

A fertile composer of biographies, satires^ and epistles, his
eloquence, as Giov4o expressed it, resembled a river which over-
flowed and muddied everything. Yet he looked upon himself as
a dispenser of immortality, of fame or infamy, to whom he chose.
When he had to write an Italian commentary on Petrarch^ he
deplored the degradation to which this reduced his epic muse ;
nevertheless^ he was always ready to sell his Latin verses and com-
mendations to the highest bidder, without being troubled with any
sense of shame.

His principal works, besides the " Satires/* were only two, and
have remained unpublished, without much loss to letters. The
first, entitled '^ De Jixris et Seriis,-^ is a collection of epigrams,
divided into ten books, each of a thousand verses, according to
the author *s always artificial rhetoric. Full of jests, and indecent
and very prosaic insults, its only object seems to be an exhibition
of the author^s facility in verse-making, and gaining money by
unworthy adulation, or still more unworthy abuse. Now, it is his
daughter who has no dower, and whose clothes are in tatters ;
now the muse of Filelfo is silent for w^ant of money, and he sup-
plicates half threateningly, half humbly, that some may be granted
to him.*

* Rosmini in his ** Vita di F. Plldfo '^ (Milan, Mussit lSo8, 3 vols.), has piib-
liiihttl sonic of rhes€ verses.

Of Francesco Sforza, Filelfo says :

" Nam (]iua mngnifici d.ila non est copia nummi
Cogitur hinc iiti carmint" mnciElule.
Quod ncquc mireris.^ voccm pretiosa canoram
Esca dal, et potus excibat ingcnium.

MILAN AND FRANCESCO FILELFO.

121

On the 1 8th of June, 1450, precisely while he was engaged on
this work, he wrote to Cardinal Bessarion : *' Being now free
from fever, I can fulfil my duty towards yourself and the Holy
Father Pius II., namely, that of writing verses in exchange for
coin." *

Nor was his conduct different while writing his other work-
also unpublished — '* The Sforziad/' divided into twenty -four
cantos, of which only ten are to be found in the libraries. It is
an attempt at an epic poem, relating Sforza's enterprises, and
starting from the death of Filippo Maria Vi&conti. In easy verses,
sometimes in the Virgilian, but oftener in the O vidian style, the
author lauds to the sky every action of his hero» even the most
perfidious. The gods of Olympus, occasionally even St. Ambrose
and other Christian saint^ are the real actors in this drama ; but
they are never more than mere abstractions, and their sole effect
is to deprive the hero of the poem of all personality. There is no
atom of true poetry in it, and Filelfo was more in the right than
he imagined, when declaring that gold was the only muse
that gave him inspiration. Whenever he had to bring some fresh
personage on to the stage, he immediately began to bargain.
Woe to him who did not pay him ! And in this way he managed

Ingenium spurco sucvit languesccre vino»
Humida miigitum reddcre rapa solet.**

RosMiNi» vol. ii. p. 283, doc. vi.

To Gentile SimoneUa :

*• Filia nam (lotcm pctil altera tt aktra vestes
FilioUquc fxrtunl illud tt itlud item."

Vol. ii. p. 287, doc. vi.

Tt» Bianca Maria Sfnria :

" Blanca, dtes^ nataiis ndc^t qui munem pacis
Afltulit eterniie rcEibiis et populis,
Dona raihi qux, Blanca, luu das debita %'ati,

Cuj Ijtllum indixit borrida paupcrics ?
Fccnorc mi pcreunt vestes, percumtjue UbelJit
Hinc meluucit Musae, Ph^sbos ei ipse timet.

Nan meatus ero : nam inc tua vale per omne
Cogniia Venturis gloria tcmpus erii/*

Vol. ii. p. 2S8» doc. vi.

To Francesco Sforxa :

" Si, Francisce, tads rebus proapexcrk unus,
Unus ero, qui le semper ad astra feram."

Vob ii. p* 290* doc. vi.
' C. de Rosmini» "Vita lU F. Filelfo," vol. ii, p. 517, doc, xx.

122

INTRO D UCTION.

to obtain money^ food, hnrses^ clothes, everything. He feigned to
be poor and starving^ while living in luxury with six servants and
six horses. He deplored the misery to which ^ according to his
own account, his immortal muse was reduced ; he was ashamed
of needing money, but never of begging for it. And all paid
court to him, because they stood in fear of his v^erses, Even
Mahomet IL freed Filelfo's mother-in-law and sister-in-law from
prison, on the poet's sending him a Greek ode and a letter, in which
he said : *' I am one of those whose eloquence celebrates illustrious
deeds, and confers immoriality on those who are by nature mortal,
and I have undertaken to narrate your glorious feats, which by
the fault of the Latins and the wWl of God, have given victory to
your arms/'^ He maintained the same behaviour in writing the
*^ Satires,'' of which there were one hundred, div^ided into ten
decades ; and each satire containing one hundred verses was called
by him a Hccatosttca.

Filelfo did not consider himself well treated by Rome. It is
true that Nicholas V., after hearing him read his " Satires,"
awarded him a gift of five hundred golden ducats ; he was over-
whelmed with courtesies, was commissioned to make a translation
of Homer, with the offer of a generous stipend, gratuities, a
house, and other things besides if he accepted. But having other
views he refused all this. After the death of his first, and then
of his second wife, he signified that he might be persuaded to
settle in Rome, if a Cardinal's hat were bestowed upon Itim either
at once or later. This request being neglected, he took a third
wife, and declined every future invitation. But at Sforza's death
his fortunes changed ; he fell into poverty, and had to supplicate the
patronage of the hated Medici, who recalled him to the Florence
University. He arrived there at the age of eighty-three, in 1481,
with worn -out strengtli and exhausted means, and died shortly
afterwards, Filelfo ivas an example of what could be done in
those days by a man of good memory, great facility for writing
and speaking various languages, inordinate v^anity and pride, no
principles, no morality, and no originality.^

' C dc Kosmini, '' Vita di F. Filelfo," vol. li. p. go» and pp. 305 and 308,
doc» X.

■' On Filelfoj one can consult , besides his own works, the three vols, of
biography published by Rosmini (who is, however* much too Iniidatorj^), with
many documents, among which are fragments of Filelfo's tmpnblishcd writings.
Mr» ijhepherd, in hk *' Vita di P. Oractiohni," sptaks at length of Filelfo. See

LEARNED MEN IN NAPLES.

"3

^

¥

He was not certainly the only learned man in Milan. As
brc Qoticed, we find there in the times of Francesco Sforza^
Cicco Simoneta^ a very learned secretary ; his brother Giovanni^
Court historian, who narrates the Duke^s life and deeds from 1423
to 1466^ in a history that \^ not without merit^ for it describes
matters of which the author wa^ an eye-witness ; and Guiniforte
Barsizza, preceptor to the Duke*s children Galeazzo Maria and
Ippolita^ who was afterwards celebrated for her Latin discourses,*
Battista Sforza, daughter of Alessandro, Lord of Pesaro^ and
Francesco *s brother, also famous for her Latin compositions,*
was likewise educated at this Court. Still this does not sufBce
to give Milan any real value of its own in the history' of learning.

5, Learned Mkn in Naples.

"fonso of Aragon, besides being a warrior ^ was also a man
of no ordinary mind, and knew how to endow his Court
with a higher importance. He laid aside his national charac-
teristics with singular facility, and became thoroughly Italian,
emulating our native princes as a patron of the fine arts, in the
search for ancient manuscripts, in studying the classics, and in
surrounding himself with literary men, on whom, according to
Vespasiano, he spent some twenty thousand ducats anntially,^
Titus Livius was his idol, so much so, that it is related how
Cosimo dei Medici, wishing to gain his friendship^ sent him a
precious manuscript of that historian's works. He wrote to beg
the Venetians to obtain for him from Padua one of Livy's arm
bones, as though it had been a sacred relic. On a march with
his army one day, Sulmona, the birthplace of Ovid, was pointed
out to him, whereupon he immediately made a halt, to give vent
to eYclamations of joy. He effected his state entry into Naples
through a breach in the walls, carefully imitating all the ceremonial
of a Roman triumph.

also Nisard's ** GLidiatcurs/' &c., voU i. ; Guillaunie Favre, **Mi:langes d*nisloire
Lttleralre," Tome i., Geneve, 1S56 ; Tiraboschit Vespasiano, and Voigt in their
previously quoted works.

* In 1465 she became tile wife of Alfon.'io of Aragon, Duke of Calahda.

^ Afterwards wife of Frederigo, Duke of Urbino»

3 Vespasiano, ** Vita d" Alfonso d*Aragona," vi, and xiv. VoigU •* Die
Wietierbelcbungt" &c., p, 235, says one hundred and twenty thousand ducats;
but this is certainly a mistake, iierhaps aiv error of the press.

124 INTRODUCTION.

Triptzunno, Valla. Fazio. BeccadellL znd PorcellSo dd PandooL
reuded kng at hi« Court, and for a ^hc^rt lime Filelfo. Gaza.
MxietxL and Fkcoloomu were also there. All were treated with
imtnificCTce and kindne^^ ^Mlen Fazio had completed his
^Hbitfjirht AlphonH.*' the king, who already paid him five
hundred ducats a-year. made him a present of fifteen hundred
more, saving. •• This is not intended as pa\-ment for your work,
which is aho\'e price/' ' ^^^len he sent an in^-itatFi^n to Manetti,
who was Aying from his Florence, he said to him. - With you I
will dii-ide my last loal"

A man of unprejudiced mind, continually at war with the
Papacy, he gave shelter and protection to all men of learning,
wluUevtr their opinions, and guaranteed them full freedom of
speech, defending them against the Inquisition and e\-ery other
danger. Thus Valla, who was the most important man of
kaming at the Neapolitan Court, was enabled to inveigh against
Popes and priests, and freely expose his religious and philo-
sophical opinions both in his writings and from his professorial
chair. This bestowed on the learned society of Naples a distinct
l^ysiognomy and special importance. It was the same with
Antonio Bcccadelli. sumamed the Panormita. Bom at Palermo
in 1394, he, after studWng at Padua, had suddenly achieved a
noisy celebrity by writing a book, that excited great scandal
by an indecency- that was not as yet verx* usual in learned
writings. This work, bearing the title ** Hennaphroditus," is a
collection of epigram^?, that for shameless pungency- and indecent
flippancy' sur]>asseri anj-thing before w-ritten in imitation of the
Koman satirists. Not only vice in general, but obscenity and
viciousness of ever\' description, were the continual subject of
his verses, which, |>ossessing some elegance and master\- of many
difficult points of style and language, obtained an extensive
success. But ver>' fierce attacks were also made upon the author.
He, however, was in no wise disconcerted by them, and gloried
in his book, because he had written it in imitation of the ancients,
and proved that an^-thing and everything could be expressed in
Latin. He defended himself by quoting Tibullus, Catullus,
Propertius, Juvenal, and even Greek and Roman philosophers
and politicians, who, although virtuous men, had written similar
obscenities. He added that if his poems were open to the same

' Vespasiano, ** Vita d' Alfonso," § vii.

THE MINOR ITALIAN STATES.

MS

reproach, his life was without stain.* Nevertheless, there was
great uproar. Poggio— certainly a man of few scruples — decidedly
blamed him ; the Minorite friars hurled their thunders on him
from the pulpit, and according to Valla^ went the length of
burning him in effigy. But Guarino Veronese, a very celebrated
scholar, an old man of sixty-three^ the father of many children^
of the purest character, and quite incapable of imitating him,
yet defended him energetically, deriding his detractors, who,
said he, ** are ignorant that life has one scope, poetry another/*
And such were, in point of fact, the ideas of the age. Sigismondo,
king of the Romans, crowned Panormita poet laureate in
Sienna, and the ** Hern^aphroditus '^ created a school : for from
that time forward it was considered almost a merit for an Italian
scholar to write Latin indecencies.

Alfonso, being quite indifferent to the accusations launched
against the poet, and firm in his wish to give refuge to all those
who were persecuted by others, always held Panormita in great
esteem. So the poet wrote the '^ Dicta et facta Alphonsi,'^ for
which he receiv^ed a reward of a thousand ducats ; afterwards
** AJphonsi regis triumphus/* and numerous works in the shape
of letters, orations, and Latin verses, which prove him to be a
facile writer of no especial merit. He read aloud, and commented
to the king, Livy, Virgil, and Seneca ; he was made a noble, and
presented with a villa and large sums of money, Bartolommeo
Fazio and others were men of even less weight. The only really
original mind, therefore, at the Court of Naples was Valla, who
contributed in no small degree to foster the critical and philo-
sophical spirit for which Neapolitans have a natural aptitude.
Another eminent man, Giovanni Giovnano Pontano, was also
there, but he flourished later, and belongs to a subsequent period
in the history of our letters*

6, Thk Mindk Italian States.

On turning our attention to the smaller cities and lesser States
of Italy, we shall find society exposed to such continual and
violent shocks, and torn by so many bloody crimes, that it is

* ** Crc<le velhii nosUa vitam distare papyro,

Si mea cliaria procax, mens sine lal>e mea est*'*
bii PanormitT^, *' Hcniiaphroditiiij/' Primus in German ia edidit et Apo-
■ I adjicit F. C. Forbergiiis : Coburgi, 1S24. Vide ** Epig»," ii. I.)

126

INTRODUCTION.

impossible to conceive how arts and letters should ever have
flourished at all in them. The petty tyrants were continually
exposed to the attacks of their neighbours, or to conspiracies
daily breaking out in their own States. Where a city like Ferrara
or Bologna was in question, the strategical position of the former,
and the territorial importance of the latter, afforded certain help
in their continual vicissitudes. A\^ere two princes were con-
cerned as powerful as Alessandro Sforza of Pesaro, — ^who had
the support of his brother of Milan — or as Federico d*Urbino —
who was also a captain of adventurers — with an army at his
back, then, even if dangers were unavoidable, it was at least
comparatively eas\^ to save the States. But where all such
assistance was lacking, we find nothing but bloody chronicles
such as those of the Baglioni in Perugia, These never succeeded
in estabOshing an undisputed lordship over the city ; they were,
it is true, the dominant family, but their chief was not always
recognized by its members, and there was a strong adverse party,
headed by the Oddi. The town was always filled with armed
men and bravos, and violent tumults would break out at a
moment^ notice.

Towards the end of the fifteenth century, bloody fights >vithin
and without Perugia were so frequent and so furious^ that the
houses in the country round were all knocked to pieces, the
fields devastated, the peasants converted into assassins, the
citizens enlisted in the free companies ; while wolves prowled
about feeding on '* Christian flesh.**' Yet it was precisely at this
period that the noblest, raost ideal and delicate painting of the
Urabrian ^^chool flourished at Perugia : another of the same
strange contrasts then to be observed throughout the length and
breadth of Italy,

Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta of Rimini was another of the
petty tyrants, and one of the most remarkable of them, A
renowned captain of adventurers, without ever having held the
command of large armies, he frequently showed himself a true
monster of cruelty. He repudiated his first wife, after receiving
her dowry ; out of jealousy or revenge he murdered his second
and third ; but ardently loved his mistress Isotta to the end of
his life. Stained by a thousand crimes^ he was extremely cynical

' "Archivb Storico/*
and MalarcLzzo.

vol. XV L parts t and 2, The Chronicles of G radian i

THE MINOR ITALIAN STATES,

127

and irreligious. On his tomb he desired the follo^ving inscription
to be placed :—

" Porto ie coma cVognVno le vede,
E lal le porta che non se la crede.*'

^|He denied God^ denied the immortality of the soul, and when
the Pope pronounced sentence of excommunication against him,
he inquired if the excommunicated sUlI continued to enjoy the
flavour of good wine and good dinners. On the occasion of
some great festival of the Church, he had the holy water pyx
filled with ink, in order to enjoy seeing the faithful stain them-
selves with it unawares.* Yet even this coarse tyrant was sur-
rounded by literary men, to some of whom he gave estates, to
others assigned salaries ; and in his castle, Arx Stsniundea^ they
sang the praises of the prince, and extolled his passion for the
^^pKrautiful Isotta, to whom a niununient, Divae Isoitae mcrutn^
^H?as erected in the church of St. Francesco beside that of her
^^pDver^ The church itself^ upon which Leon Battista Albert!
^^worked from 1445 to 1450, and one of the most ulegant
and purest edifices of the Renaissance bears on its facade the
name of Sigismund, and the initials S. and L are introduced

Pinto the ornaments. In the two outer sides are niches intended
for the tombs of the Court soldiers and men of learning. And
there was no aflectation in all this ; it was the expression of a
real need of the cultured and artistic side of his character. Pius
I IL^ who was at fierce war with him, and burnt him in effigy,
^Kwrote that he (Malatesta) *' was learned in history ; had great
^^knowledge of philosophy, and seemed born for everything that
I he undertook.'^ =*

^B At Ferrara, Manto%^a, Urbino, the capital cities of small but
^^nevertheless important States, things wore a very different aspect.
Without being great centres like Rome and Florence, they had
a character and distinct importance of their own in the history
of letters. Ferrara was the more celebrated. Its strategical
position rendered it independent| since none of the great Italian
States could allow another to take possession of it. The Lords
of Este, who ruled and fortified it, were men of ability and also
oftea of great military power. Yet the interior of the Ducal

G* Voigt, ** Enea Silvio dei Piccolomini," &c., vol iii, p- 123.

II. ♦*Comm.,*' Romic, 1584, liL ii, p. 92. Burckhartlt, pp. 223, 224,
i that the word histaria i^ here used to indicate a knowledge of antiquUy.

128 INTRODUCTION.

Palace witnessed many scenes of bloodshed. Parisina, wife of
the bastard Niccol6 III., being enamoured of a natural son of her
husband, both she and her lover were beheaded (1425). And the
same duke had afterwards to consolidate his power, combating
the hostile nobility with every stratagem of war and all manner
of treachery. This bastard was succeeded b\' two natural sons,
Lionello and Borso. In after years Ercole, legitimate son of
Niccol5 m., seized the dukedom by force of arms from the
hands of Lionello's son, and did bloody execution on his enemies.
And so matters went on even in the sixteenth century, when
Cardinal Ippolito d'Este put out the eyes of his brother Giulio,
another bastardy because they were praised by a lady whom both
loved, and who alleged to the cardinal as the reason why she
preferred his brother to himself, the irresistible beauty of the
former's eyes. The operation was imperfectly performed, thereby
causing fresh tragedies at the unhappy Court, for Giulio, to
whom the sight of one eye remained, conspired with Don
Ferrante against their common brother, Duke Alfonso I.,*
husband of Lucrezia Borgia. The cardinal betrayed the plot
(1506), and the two brothers were condemned to a perpetual
imprisonment, in which Don Ferrante died, and from which
Giulio was only liberated on the accession of Alfonso II. (155Q).
Yet this was the Court so celebrated for its artistic and literary
splendour, even to the days of Bojardo, Ariosto, and Tasso, who
shed over it the lustre of their names and of their immortal works.
Having been, in the Middle Ages, a Lombard, feudal, and
knightly city, it had not shared the great literar}' movement that
showed itself in Florence in the thirteenth and fourteenth cen-
turies. But in the fifteenth century it was one of the most
flourishing cities of Italy, and the disorders of the Court seldom
seemed to spread beyond the walls of the Ducal Palace. Ferrara
had been built after a pre-arranged design, was governed in an
orderly way, and exiles from Florence and other Italian cities took
refuge there and erected palaces. The houses and streets, which are
now so deserted, barely sufficed for the needs of the population.
Its dukes looked after everything, and invited learned men to
settle in the city. Among these, the first place must be given
to (xuarino Veronese, who, in bringing learning to Ferrara where
feudal and knightly traditions were in full force, promoted

* The brothers were four : Alfonso I., Cardinal Ippolito, Don Ferrante, and
Giulio the bastard, all sons of Ercole I.

THE MINOR ITALIAN STATES,

129

e revival of letters that afterwards gave us the *' Orlando
namorato/* the ** Orlando Furioso," and so many other works of
imperishable fame.*

Guarino, born in 1370, studied Greek at Constantinople^ whence*
he returned to Italy with a rich store of manuscripts, and so
tender!)^ did he value these, that there was a generally received
fable of his hair having suddenly turned white on the loss by
shipwreck of a large portion of his treasure.* He taught first in
Florence, then at Venice, where one of his pupils was Vittorino
da Feltre, to whom he imparted his learning and theories of
education. Called to Ferrara in 1424 by Niccolo III., he became
the instructor of Lionello and professor at the university ^ dev^oting
himself with feverish ardour to his double office, besides writing a
great number of works : translations of Plutarch, Plato, Strabo,
and Lucian ; biographies, grammars, and more than fifty orations*
But above all else^ his principal merit consists in the nobility of
Ms character and his method of instruction, in which there was
eat originality, and that produced very remarkable results,
excellent father of his family, of temperate and sober life,
sp^ldng ill of no man, he lived in the midst of his scholars, of
whom he had always a houseful. It was said that more learned
men issued from his school than Greeks from the Trojan horse.
And certainly more than thirty of his pupils were celebrated for
their learning, 3 although Vittorino da Feltre was the only one
.who achieved a lasting reputation. But Guarino^s labours may
lest be measured by the impulse he gave to letters in Ferrara,
which, by his teachings and under the rule of his pupils Lionello
and Borso d'Este, was transformed iiito a small Italian Athens.
He continued his work with unremitting zeal to the last day of
his life, when, on the 4th of December, 1460, in the ninetieth year
of his age, he expired in the bosom of his family, beloved and
venerated by all

The Gonzaga of Mantova, some of whom were leaders of
mighty armies, never committed any of the crimes which so
deeply stained the history of the Estes. Their Court, it is true,
had no splendour until the sixteenth century-, in the times of

^Krea

' Gio>ne Carduccu **Ddlepoesi; latine edite ed iiieditedi Ludovico Ariosto.*'
Bokigna, ZanicheMi, 1S75, P* ^' ^^^ f^l*

* C. dc Rosminit ** Vita e disciplina di Guarino Veronese j *' Brescia, 1S05-6,
Yol. L p. 6; Tiraboschi, **S. L, I.," vol. vL p. 118.

* Rosmini in his **Life of Guarino" gives us ample delaila ol all these pupils.
VOL, K 10

ISO

INTRO D UCTION,

Bembo^ Bandello, Ariosto^ and Tasso, and especially during the
life of the good Marchioness Isabella. But in the fifteenth century
Mantova was honoured by being the place of residence of Vittorino
Rambaldooi da Feltre (born 1378, died 1446), the first of modern
pedagogues^ and who, as we have already seen, was Gua^ino^s
most illustrious pupiL Summoned to Mantova by Giovanni
Francesco Gonzaga, he received a munificent stipend and a
dwelling in wliich he founded his celebrated school, soon to be
known hy the name of Casa Girtiosa^ from the constant gaiety that
prevailed among his well-cared-for pupils. His method of teaching
was excellent, and he taught the classics with the aid of renowned
Greeks, such as Gaza and Trapezuozio, To these and to other
studies usual in schools of that time, were added music, dancing,
drawing, gymnastics, and riding. The fundamental principle of
Vittorino's school was : that for the formation of character, the
education of the body should be coupled with that of the mind.
And Vittorino's success in so immoral an age, was entirely owing
to the nobility and elevation of his mind, and the generosity
with which he spent all his salary in pedagogic education of
the poor, who thus pursued their studies side by side with the
Marquis of iMaiitua s sons and the young Federico da Montefeltro,
afterwards the celebrated Duke of Urbino. And this community
and equality in school of all orders of citizens, formed part of
Vittorino's giving system, for he was the first to conduct instruc-
tion and education upon scientific principles,* The excellent
results of the Casa Gt'oiosa were plainly visible in Mantua and
elsewhere, since for a long time Vit tori no's pupils were distin-
guished by a loyalty of character that was in strong contrast
with the general corruption.

It was mainly owing to this system of education that Urbino
became the model Court of Italvi and that the Duke Federico
was good, loyal, and faithful in spite of being a Condottiere Cap-
tain. Universally renowned for his strategy, for the discipline
maintained by his soldiers, and for being the only leader of his
time who never betrayed his word nor his oath, he was acquainted
with Latin, philosophvi and history ; he read the classics, and had
a pronounced taste for theological controversy. These acquire-
ments, united to those gained in the camp and the council
chamber, gave him possession, or at least comprehension, of

* C de Rosmim^ "Idea delF ottimo preceUare nella Vita c diis-ciplina di
Vittorino da Feitre e dci suoi dUcepolL" Bas.siino» ** Remondiniana '* Pressi 1801.

J

THE MINOR ITALIAN STATES.

131

I

I
I

nearly all the knowledge of his day. His life was ordered with
the regularity of a time-piece, and all his leisure moments were
devoted to discussion and study* When riding to Tivoli with
Pope Pius IL, beneath a burning sun, amid the dust raised by the
hoofs of the cavalry, the glitter of helmets and swords, he chatted
with the Pope on the arms of the ancients, on the Trojan war,
and could not quite agree with him on the subject of the confines
of Asia Minor.' The money earned by the rich pay of a free-
<aptaiii he spent during peace in beautifying the city and Court
of Urbino. It almost seemed as though he wished to make his
State a work of art. The palace built by him was one of the
most celebrated in Italy, not for its richness, but for its exquisite
taste. It housed many hundreds of persons, to ' each of whom a
definite office was entrusted, with a fixed time-table and written
instructions. It resembled a great military school, to^which manj
nobles sent their sons, in order that they 'might be trained ir
soldierly discipline, and exercises, and in elegance; of manners. His
greatest treasure was the extensive librar)% on ;^wliich he spent
^o,cxx> ducats,^ and gave employment for fourteen years to thirty
or forty coppsts in Urbino, Florence, and other places. 3 He had
it arranged with the nicest order, following jn part the system of
Parentucelli,-* but trying to embrace the whole 'circle of ancient

• Piill., '*Comm.."p, 131.
' Professor E, Piccolomini, in his work " Sulla libreria privaia det Medid,"

before quoted by us, gives* at p, 25, the in struct ions given to the librarian, which
•cleaily prove the great precision and order exacted by the Duke.

* Tliis library, afterwards stolen by Duke Valcniino, and plater bought by Pope
AJexmnder \TII., is now to be found in the Vatican* Caytiglioni^ in his
** Cortcgiano," mentions it briet^y, but Vcf^pasiano speaks of it at length, and
describes it with ecstasy. *' This Duke alone has had a mind to do that which no
one has undertaken for more than a thousand years, and to collect a library, the
worthiest ever made in all these ages, , , , And he has taken the road (hat needs

ust be taken by whomsoever wishes to make a worthy and famous library such as

s is. , . . What letters ! w^hat bof jks \ what goodly books ! collected without

'gafd for expense/' ('*Vita di Federico, Duca d'Urbino," sec. xxviii.) . . .

In that library all the books are superlatively Ijeautiful^ all written with the pen,

,d not a single printed onct for the Duke would have taken shame to himself

il; all most elegantly illuminated, and none that is not written upon kid.

its principal merit was the order with which it was arranged, containing the

principal ancient and modern authors in ever)^ branch of knowledge, and not

many specimens of the same autlior, one copy of each, neither is there a single

^eet of their works thai is not complete** (Ibidem^ sec. xxxi.)-

* Professor Piccolomini, at p. lit and foL of his^'above-quoted work, gives the
bliographical canon composed l>y Parerilucelli, afterwards Pope Nicholas V.,
id one can see how incomplete it is, and therefore how exaggerated the praises
-which it obtained.

IS3

INTRODUCTION.

and modern lore,' Thus he succeeded in obtaining something
unique in the world. Surrounded by Italian and foreign artists^
and also by soldiers, he had few learned men at his Courts but
many were in correspondence with him, and dedicated to him
their works. He went about unarmed among his people, dined
frugally in the open air, listening to readings from Livy or other
ancient authors. Towards evening he attended the military and
g^-mnastic exercises performed by his youths and pages in the field
of St. Francesco. The people loved their duke» and his successors
followed in his footsteps.^ It would be too much to assert that
Urbino gave any extraordinary impulse to literary culture in
Italy ; but we may say that it was like a shining jewel amid the
Apennines ; a model city^ the birth-place of many great men, the
greatest of whom was Raphael,

7. The Platonic Academy.

i

The writers hitherto noticed lived, as we have already said^
amid a multitude of others, whose names, though famous in their
own day^ gradually tell into oblivion. No century in fact has
contributed to history so great a hecatomb of supposed cele-
brities as the fifteenth century. And this is easily explained by
the double work that age carried on. In its efforts to re\dve
antiquity^ it set in motion, on the one hand, an often mechanical
imitation and reproduction of the past, in which those who have
since been forgotten took part ; on the other, new and unexpected
results were obtained^ which were the u^ork of a much smaller
number of scholars, whose names deserve" historical mention. And
this double order of facts and individuals is to be met wnth
in nearly all the culture of the Renaissance — in philosophy no
less than in letters. Philosophy had apparently a great and
general importance among the learned ; but the greater number
of these merely extracted from the ancient writers a dictionary of
phrases on gIor}% friendship, contempt of deaths the Eummum
bonumy happiness and virtue, which they continually repeated^
without conforming to them either their deeds or their convic-

* Vespasiano, *' Vita di FedericOj Duca d'UrlnEO,'* sec* xxxi.

* Ibid.i ** Vita di Fcderico, Duca d'Urbino"; Ugolini, "Storia dei Conii
e Duchi d'Urbino," two vols.: Firunze, 1S59 ; Dennisiown, *' Memoirs of the
Dukes of Urbino^' : London, Longmans and Co., 1851 ; Burckhardl, " Die Cultur
dcr Kenaissance/^ pp- 44-46 j Voigt^ ** Die Wiederbelcbung," "^c., p. 263.

THE PLATONIC ACADEMY.

^33

tions. We constantly find in these phrases a strange mixture of
Paganism and Christianity , in odd contradiction one with the
other ; a point which was quite indifferent to the \rriter. Soon,
however, the need was felt of finding some unrevealed but rational
basis of human life to explain at once Pagan and Christian virtue^
and to harmonize their too apparent contradiction* Then^ work
that was more or less original began, first started by the Neo*
Platonists and the Academy^ they had founded in Florence.

The Greek exiles did not contribute much to the diffusion
among us of their language (which had already begun to be
studied in Italy), and still less to the learning which already
flourished before their arrival, but they greatly helped to direct
learning itself to the study of the ancient philosophers. The first
origin of Platonism, or rather of Neo-Platonism^in Italy, is in fact
owed to Giorgio Gemistos, surnamed Plethon on account of his
professed admiration for Plato. Born in the Peloponnesus accord-
ing to some, only a refugee there from Constantinople according
to others, he was the most learned and influential of the many
Greeks gathered together at the Council of Florence. And so
earnest and enthusiastic w^as hi& devotion to Platonism, that he
€ven hoped from it a revival of religion. This caused his detrac-
tors to assert that he desired the revival of Paganism ; but judging
by his wTitings, by those of his followers, and the positive results
of his doctrines, we may safely affirm that he was convinced that
Christianity would derive fresh confirmation from the Platonic
philosophy, and might therefore be revived under another, and
in his opinion, more rational form. In a pamphlet, that became
very celebrated,* he examined the points of diversity between the
Platonic and Aristotelian philosophies, and giving preference, of
course, to the former system, reduced everything to a single
question. The two great philosophers, said he, admit that nature
works, not by chance, but for a given purpose. Aristotle^ how-
ever, maintains that this purpose is achieved unconsciously non
consuito ; Plato, on the contrary, asserts with more justice that
nature is rational, is conscious, consuito tigii ; its art is divine,
since it is God Himself who works in it.* A most burning dispute
arose upon this question, which, unimportant as it may seem to
us, was of immense consequence at that time. For it opened the

* '• De Platonioc atque Aristotelica; philosophical differemia. " Basileae* 1574*

• In my *'Storia tli G. Savunarola," t\:c„ 1 have gone into this subject more
minutely. See vol. i. book i, chap, iv.

134

INTRODUCTION.

way to Pantheism ; and the conception of the personal God, of
the Omnipotent Jehovah of the Jews, of the Father Almighty of
the Christians, was here transformed into the conception of the
philosophical absolute.' The Greek and Italian men of learnings
though with no clear understanding of what they were doings
still foresaw the great importance of the question at issue, and
therefore dwelt upon it with insistency.

Giorgio Scolarius and Thedore Gaza, both Greeks and both
Aristotelians, fiercely attacked Plethon in the gross language
customar}^ to learned men in those days. Cardinal Bessarioni in
endeavouring to make peace, allowed it to escape him that he
considered Thedore Gaza more learned than Giorgio Trape-
zuntios, whereupon the latter attacked every one, including Plato
himself, with greater fury than before. Then Bessarion pub-
lished a voluminous work, *^In Calumniatorem Platonis/" in
which, while repulsing Trapezuntios' assaults^ he tried with
an easy and most diffuse Latin eloquence, barren of all
literary or philosophical originality, to conciliate all opposing
opinions. According to him, Aristotle and Plato both said in
substance the same things. This contest waged among the
Greeks, had no genuine philosophical importance^ and remained
where it was left by G. G. Plethon ; but it served to attract
Italian minds to a branch of erudition, which they had hitherto
neglected, their study of the Greek philosophers having been
chiefly literary. Meanwhile G. G. Plethon, without wasting time
in replying to abuse, succeeded, before returning to his own country^
in infusing so much admiration for the Platonic doctrines in
Cosimo dei Medici 's mind, that he left him decided to use every

" **- Unser heutiger monotheistischer GoUesbegriff hat iwci seiten, die der
Absoluthcit UE(1 die der Pcrsonlichkeit, die zwar in ihin vereinigt sind, dochso^
wie bLiweikti in einem Menschcn ;^wci Eigenschartcn, davon die eiiie ihm nach*
weisHch von den vaicrlichen die andre von den niuttedichen Seite konimt ; das
cine Moment tst die judisch-climtliche, das andre die griechisch-pliilosophische
Mitgift unscres Gottcsljcgriffs. Das alle Testament kijnnen wir sagen hai tins den
Herrn-CfOtl, das neue den GoLt-V'ater, die giiechlsche Philosophie aber hat uns
die GoUheit oder das Absolute %'ererbt '* (Stranss, ** Der alle und der neue
Glaube," Bonn, 1873* fifth edition, p, 107). The same author obser\-es in the
preceding page ; 'Mn Alexandria war es, wo der jiidische Stamm-und National-
gott mit deni Welt-und Menscbheiti>goUe zusaniinenfloss und bald /.usammen
wuchs den die griechische rhfk!S4:)phie aus der olympischen Gottermenge
ihrer Volksreligion heraiis entwickelt hatte " (p. 106), From Alexandria these
ideas came to Italy, spread throughout Eurc>i>ej and became the bone and sub-
stance of modern culture.

THE PLATONIC ACADEMY,

ns

means for their propagation in Italy, and to re-establish the old
academy.

To attain this object^ Cosimo's practical common sense^ showed
him that first of all he must find a suitable man. And such an
one he believed that he had found in a young man of Figline, a
doctor's son, aged eighteen^ who was dev^oting himself with much
ardour to his father's profession. ** Thy son/* said Cosimo, *' is
born to minister to minds, not bodies ; ^* and he took him to live
in his own palace, intending him to be the future champion of
Platonism. This youth was iMarsilio Ficino (born i^H)^ who,
setting to work with fervent zeal, produced after five years* study
a work on the Platonic philosophy, that was based, however,
solely on translations. And from that time to his life*s end»
Ficino studied nothing but Plato and the Neoplatonists, writing a
great number of translations and original tractates, besides giving
instruction to the sons and grandsons of Cosimo, and afterwards
to a large class in the Florentine Studin.

To describe Ficino's works is to give the history of Platonism
in Italy ; to narrate his life is to give the history of the Platonic
academy. His followers contented themselves with repeating
their master's ideas, and the academy was born and died with htm.
It was in reality a mere assembly of friends and disciples who
gathered round him, under the protection of the Medici, for the
discussion of Platonic philosophy. It resembled the reunions
formerly held in the cell of Marsigli or of Traversari ; excepting
that the Medici, especially Lorenzo, oftener joined in these, pro-
moted them with more ardour, and the philosophical matters
discussed in them had a much louder echo throughout Italy.
During the summer some of these meetings were held in the
forest of Camaldoli ; others more solemn were held every year in
Florence, and in the Medici villa at Careggi on the 7th November^
which, according to the Alexandrine tradition, was the anniversary
of Plato's birth and death/ The custom of solemnly celebrating
it, observed down to the times of Plotinus and PorphiriuSj was,
after twelve hundred years, according to Ficino, now resumed.^
The festival began with a banquet, followed by a philosophical
discussion, generally ending with an apotheosis, which was almost

* A similar rradition was also current respecting Pythagoras and ApoUonius,
arising jjerhaps from [he old custom of the pniiHtive Christians, whti ofleii styled
the day on ^hich martyrs passed to a better life thck birthday*

' Ficino states thi-s in his Commentary on Plalu's ** Symposium."

136 INTRODUCTION.

a sacred hymn to the great Master. Less solemn meetings and
discussions were held on many different occasions, but always in
the same easy and friendly manner.

The title of Academy was only taken from the doctrines enter-
tained by its members, since as far as we can ascertain, it had no
peculiar statutes or regulations. It was held together by Ficino's
teachings and personality, and by the fervour of his friends and
disciples.^ And if, on the one hand, this reduces it to insignifi-
cance as an institution, on the other, it increases its historical
importance, since it proves it to be a natural and spontaneous
outcome of the social conditions which gave it birth. In fact, no
sooner were these social and intellectual conditions changed, than
it became impossible to keep it alive. It went on very regularly
down to 1478 ; when the bloody conspiracy of the Pazzi having
broken out, and persecution commenced, men's minds were dis-
turbed ; there was an end to the tranquillity requisite for philo-
sophic contemplation, and the meetings, already sadly thinned,
ceased altogether with Ficino's death. Those afterwards held in
the Oricellarii Gardens, and at which Machiavelli was often
present, had very little to do with Platonism, as is clearly seen by
Machiavelli's dialogues, " Delle Arte della Guerra," and by the
plots that were hatched there. We might almost say that the
title of Platonic still given to these meetings was sometimes a
mask to hide their real purport. The attempts made by Leopoldo
dei Medici in the seventeenth century to bring the Academy to
life again, belong to another age, have another signification, and
are of very slight importance in the history of science.^*

Almost all those who have written on the Platonic Academy
and on Ficino have contented themselves with carefully collecting
biographical and literary anecdotes, which are things of very
secondary value.3 What chiefly concerns us is to know the intrinsic

* Ficino in his letters divides his Platonists into disciples and friends, saying,
that from the latter he often learned much. One of them was Poliziano, who
wrote to him : *' Thou seekest the truth and I seek the beautiful in the writings of
the ancients ; our works complete each other, being like two halves of one and the
same whole."

* Respecting these attempts, one may refer to the notices collected by Professor
A. Alfani, in his work, "Della Vita a degli Scritti di O. K. Ruccellai," Firenze,
Barbera, 1372. This author, however, endeavours to give Ruccellai a philosophic
importance, which, in our opinion, he does not possess.

3 We must make one exception in favour of a very brief but learned work by K.
Sieveking, **Die Geschichte der Platonischen Akademie zu Florenz," Hamburg,
Druck und Lithographic des Rauhen Hauses zu Horn, 1844. This fine mono-

THE PLATONIC ACADEMY.

137

merit of these doctrines^ the reason of their immense popularity in
the fifteenth century, and what was the talent of those who dis-
covered and propagated them. Certainly when we consider the
numerous group of Platonists collected round FicinOj it astonishes
^s to find that two only merit some respect as writers of philo-
sophical works. One of these is Cristoforo Landino^ the cele-
Tjrated commentator of Dante and of Petrarch, an Hellenist
of good repute, professor at the Studio and author of the *^ Dispu-
tationes Camaldulense^," 'in which he gives long and minute
reports of the Platonic discussions. The other is Leon Battista
Alberti, a first-rate artist, poet, prose writer, scholar, scientist^ a
univ^ersal man, and a precursor of Leonardo da Vinci in the pro*
digious variety of his intellectual gifts. To these two were added
the lesser lights : Donato Acciajoli, Antonio Carrigiani, Naldo
rJNaldi, Peregrino Agli, Alamanno Kinuccini, Giovanni Cavalcanti,
Ticino's most intimate friend, and many others. Yet among all
these, without excepting even Landino and Alberti, not a single
true philosopher is to be found ; they all repeat the same ideas,
and these ideas are Ficino's. It may certainly be remembered
that Angelo Poliziano and Lorenzo dei Medici, both intellects of
undoubted eminence, were also members of the Platonic Academy ;

graph was publislied withomt the aiithor^s name, as an appendix to a valuable short
history of Florence by the sartic writer, Mo;>t of his informaiion rcgnrding the
Platonic Academy and Ficino is drawn from Ficino's own works. Of the Academy
he makes special mention in hU Epistles, and the Introduction or Commentary
to his version of Plato's '* Symposium.*' Many notices are also to be found in
Tiraljoftchi, in the ** Life of ]M. Ficino,'^ written in Latin by Corsi ; and in that of
Lorenzo del Medici, written by Ruscoe and l>y Keumont : in A. ^^. Bandini*s
** Specimen Litleratiir.e Florentin.-c," sec. xv, tS:c. : Florentia, 1747. This work is
chiefly a biography of Cristoforo Landino, a follower of Ficinu, and member of the
Academy, Many notices too were collected by Leopoldo Galetti, in his ^* Saggio
intorno alta Vita cd agli Scritti di Marsilio Ficino," publishcil in the " Archivio
Storico Italiano,*^ new series, tome ix. second issue, and tome x. first issue. F'or
an exposition of Ficino's doctrines, see Ritter*s " Geschichte der neuem Philo-
sophic/* jDart I, book 2, chap, iv., and for the philosophy of those times in
general, see also F. Schultze*s ** Geschichte der Philosophie der Renaissance*' (Jena,
1874)'

* Of a Pratovecchio family, but Ixjm in Florence in 1 424, learned in Greek and
I^tin, he was appointed teacher in the Studio in 1427. He was chancellor to the
Guelph party ; afterwards one of the secretaries of the KepubHct an office which he
held until J497. Then on account of his age he retired to Prnlovecchio, continu-
ing to enjoy his stipend of one hundred florins per annum until 1504, when he died
at the age of eighty, in a vilia l^estowed upon him by ihe Republic in recompense

or his •*Comenlo su Dante/' Tiraboschi, ** S- L. L," vol. vi. p. 1065 ; Rindint,

* Specimen/* &c.

138 INTRODUCTION.

but their writings all show them to be men of letters and not
• philosophers. Pico della Mirandola only appeared later as a
propagator of Ficino's ideas, and neither had he any philosophical
originality. But, few or many, of what matters did they speak^
what and of what value were these doctrines which found so many
and so ardent champions ?

And the nearer we approach to them the more does our
astonishment increase. In the summer of 1468 ^ we find them
in the pleasant convent of Camaldoli, whither they had gone to-
enjoy the country air, and hold the famous Camaldolensian
disputes. There were Lorenzo dei Medici, Giuliano dei Medici^
Cristoforo Landino and his brother, Alamanno Rinuccini, Leon
Battista Albert i — then just come from Rome — and Marsilio
Ficino. After hearing mass they went to sit in the shade
of the forest trees, and there passed the first day in disputing
on the contemplative and the active life. Alberti declared in
favour of the former, supporting his preference by very common-
place arguments ; while Lorenzo dei Medici held that both kinds
of life were equally necessary. On the second day they spoke of
the " Summum Bonum," and we have a series of empty phrases
and classical quotations. On the third and fourth days Alberti
demonstrated his Platonic wisdom by a long commentary upon
Virgil, endeavouring by means of the strangest allegories to prove
that in the -^neid arc to be found concealed the whole Platonic
doctrine, and the whole Christian doctrine, which, in his opinion,,
are at bottom one and the same thing. And these allegories, which
moved Angelo Maria Bandini to say in reporting them that the
Platonists often seemed to have lost their wits,^ are exactly what
they lay most stress upon, almost as though these formed a sub-
stantial part of their philosophy.

We will now glance at the speeches pronounced at one of the
grandest banquets of the Academy, given by order of Lorenzo il
Magnifico in the villa at Careggi, under the presidency of Messer
Francesco Bandini. Here it is no less a personage than Ficino

' Bandini says that these meetings were held in 1460 : but Roscoe ol)serves that
Lorenzo dei Medici was only twelve years old at that time, and gives instead the
date of 1468. ** The Life of Lorenzo dei Medici," &c., chap. 11.

^ ** Hoc pronunciare liberi possum, opiniones eorum tenebricosis allegoriarum.
involucris et dicendi, genere plusquam poetico, qui omnium fere academicorum.
mos erat, fuisse absconditas." After which he goes on to quote expressions which,,
as he justly ol)serves, no man of sound mind would think of using. — "Specimen,**"
vol. xi. page 58.

THE PLATONIC ACADEMY.

i»

himself who gives a minute report of the proceedings.* The
numher of the guests was nine, in honour of the nine muses.
Francesco Bandini, Antonio AgUt Bishop of Fiesole, Marsilio
Ficino and his father, C. Landino, Bernardo Nuzzi, Giovanni
Cal vacant!, Carlo and Cristoforo Marsuppini. The dinner over^
Plato^s " Symposium " was read aloud, and the discourses held in
the house of Agathon were strangely expounded by the guests at
Careggi. Phaedrus says in the ** S\nnposium/' that love inspires
heroism, was horn directly after Chaos, and before the other gods^
and is admired by all admirers of beauty. And this is Ca\^alcanti*s
commentary upon that passage : God, beginning and end of all
the worlds^ creates the angels, who in their turn, form the third
essences out of the universal soul created by God. These essences
are the souls of all things^ and therefore also of the different
worlds to which they give life, because the body is formed from
the souL When Chaos begins to assume shape, it feels a desire
for beauty, which is love ; and it is for this reason, according to
Plato, that love precedes the other gods, who are identical mth
the angels. And hereupon Cavalcanti begins to show how the
angels are identical with the ancient deitic-s, and how the third

^Rji

Sec the '* Cotnmentarium Marsilii P'icini, in Convivium Pktonis de Amore,"
ich i-s added to his Lalin translation of Plato. The banqtiels of the Platonic
A carle my seem to have Ix^en held in the villa at Careggi, generally presided over
by Lorenzo the Magnjficcntt and in Florence under the presidenc)'^ of Franceaco^
Bandini. So says Ang. Maria Bandini ('* Specimen,*' vol. L pp. 60-61), and so
Ficino himaelf says in a letter to Jacopo Bracciolini, publishtfd in Bandini's
'* Specimen,** vol- i. pp< 62-63, '*Plaronici veteres urbana PlaionLs nalaUtia
quotannis instaurabant; novi autem Platonici* Braccioline, et urbana et suburljana
iKKtjis tcmporibus cclebrarunt ; suburbana quidem apud Mag. Laurenlium Mctlicem
iJi agro Caregio. Cuncta in bbro nostru de amore narrantur. Urbana vera
Florcntiac sumtu regio celebravit Franc, Bandiniis \Ai ingenio, magnificeotia,
excellcns. . . C' At the town meeting, mI which he here makes mention, the sub-
ject of discusaion was the immortality of the soul. But the Careggi banquet of
which Ficino gives such ver>' minute details in his ** Comm^ntariuni/* was by order
of LorentJ, who was then in Florence, presidetl over by Franc. Bandini. In fact,
At the banning of the first chapter he says : *' Plato philosophorum pater, annos
nnum et ocloginta aetatis, nattts septimo, novembris die, quo ortus fuerat, discum*
bens in convivio, reraotis dapibus, expiravit. Hoc autem convivium, quo et
Datatitia et anniversaria Platonis pariter continentur, prisci omnes Platonici usque
ad Plotini et Porphyrii tempora quotannis instaurabant. Post veru Porphyriuni;
mille ac duccntos annos, solennes hae dapes praeterraissae fuerunt. Tandem^
Dostris lemj^Knibus, vir clarissimus Laurentius Medice* platunicum convivium inno-
vaturus, Fcanciscum Bandjnum Architriclinum constiluit. Cum igitur septiitium
Kovembris diem colere Baiidinus insiituissel, regis apparatu in agio Caregio.
em platooicos accepit convivas."

I40

INTRODUCTION.

essences are at the same time the ideas of Plato and the forms of
Aristotle. But act content with this^ he further asserts that the
third essences, created by the angels, become in their turn identical
with the ancient gods ; nor is this sufficient, for such a confusion
of ideas follows that we can no longer follow the author* Jove is
heaven, Saturn and Venus are the two planets thus named ; but
they are likewise the third essences, or the souls of heaven^ and of
the two planets ; they are the three divinities of the ancients, and
also three angels ; they are finally the soul of the world, inasmuch
as it informs, moves, and generates.^ What is chiefly clear in all
this confusion is, that in the opinion of the Academicians,
Christianity and Paganism ought to form one and the same thing
with Platonism. Allegory is the key-stone of this edifice^ or
rather artifice, in which things do not mean what they are, but
become symbols and emblems of other things, and as all this is
arbitrary, so they can be twisted to any signification one chooses
to give them-

Aristophanes, one of the speakers in the ** Symposium/* says
that, in the beginning, there were three sexes, male, female^ and
promiscuous, that is to say, individuals who were men and women,
at the same time, with two heads, four hands, &c. These beings
tried to struggle against the gods, and were therefore divided into
two halves, one of which is always seeking the other, hence it is
only when united that lovers can be happy. If mortals^ however,
persist in their pride, they will be punished by a new division \ it
will then be curious, adds Aristophanes, to see them going about
the world with only half a head, one eye, one hand, one foot,
Landino, who had to comment upon this strange discourse, seeks
neither the origin of the legend, nor its mythological explana-
tion. The soul, he says, was created whole by God, furnished
with di\Tne light with which to look upon the higher things, \\rith
natural light, inborn, with which to look upon the lower. But
man sinned by pride, wished to make himself equal with God,
thinking that his natural, inborn light was sufficient for him \
whereupon his thoughts were directed to corporeal things alone,
and the original unity was broken. If he persists in his pride,
trusting entirely to his natural light, he will be punished anew by
losing that also.'' This was the easy explanation of everything.

The last to speak is Cristoforo Marsuppini, who concludes by

• See Cavalcaini's two speeches in the " Commenltarium.'*

* ** Commenlariimi," Oralio iv.

THE PLATONIC ACADEMY,

141

commenting on the very beautiful speech of Alcibiades, and the
words which he, at the end of the ** Symposium," addresses to
Socrates. The orator makes his commentary by expounding the
ideas of Guido Cavalcanti upon love, and speaking of the divine
fury^ by means of which man, rising above his own nature, in
Drum transit. By this God draws the soul, sunk in inferior
things, once more upwards to the higher. And all terminates
wth an eulogium of Socratic love^ and a hymn to the divine love
or Holy Spirit, that has inspired the discussion, and illumined
the Platonic orators.'

These philosophers, in trying to reconcile Paganism with
Christianity, spirit with matter, the divine with the human, God
with the world, and unable to discover the rational unity of all
those things, reduced e\'ery thing to symbols. Yet the great
popularity and immense influence of this philosophy upon the
literature and culture of the age, cannot be placed in doubt by
any one ; and it is impossible to deny its great historical impor-
tance. This philosophy, in fact, was the result of a new way
of regarding the world, that emerges clearly enough, even from
amid the clouds of the wildest allegories. For the Platonists the
world had become the great physical and moral cosmos, created
by divine love, in the image of the God who dwells therein, and
whom they regarded no longer as a living personality, but as the
supreme unity of all, the universal spirit, the absolute. And
OMdng to their labours this conception penetrates and permeates
the literature of the second half of the fifteenth century, and
ser^'^es to determine its character. Hence it is plain that Italian
Platonism, without having much scientific value, is yet a highly
important element of modern culture.

But fully to understand this^ we must also fix our attention
upon the works of the man who best knew how to formulate and
teach it. Marsilio Ficino had a boundless admiration for all the
philosophy of the ancients ; he studied and tried to assimilate
Plato, Aristotle, the Neo-PlatonistSj and every fragment he could
find of quotations from Confucics^ Zoroaster^ &c. All that which
they say is sacred to him, merely because it is ancient ; and thus
hb writings become a huge congeries of different elements, without
his ever discovering a true dominant and organic principle, upon

* ** Comment a rium,** 5:c., Omtio vii. chap. xvii. " Qiiomodo agendae sunt
gntiae Spirilu Sancio, qui nos ad hanc dispulationem illuminavH atque acccndil.'*

t4«

INTRODUCTION.

i

which to build up a system, and earn a right to the title of an
original philosopher.

The Neoplatonic allegories imported among us by G. Plethon
and other Greeks formed the only means by which he could
harmonize the different elements. Yet Ficino's proposed aim was
a highly remarkable one^ and affords us a glimpse of his philo-
sophic importance. Amid the triumph of Pagan antiquity, he
sees that Christianity cannot fall ; but he also st;es that the mere
authority of the prophets, of the Bible, and of revelation, no
longer suffices to maintain it and keep it alive in men's minds.
Hence it was necessary to have recourse to reason, to true
philosophy, i,c.^ to ancient philosophy ; and among the diverse
systems, that which best lent itself to his object, was certainly the
Platonian. Thus, as he himself declares^ arose in his mind the
notion of founding Christianity upon the Platonic doctrine, and
even of proving that they were one and the same thing, that the
one was the logical consequence of the other. At that time this
appeared to be a new revelation, and therefore he burnt candles
before Plato, and adored him as a saint* In fact, in his book,
** Delia Reltgione Cristiana/' the most solid arguments that he can
find in its favour are the answers of the Sibyls and the prophecies
of the coming of Jesus Christ, to be found in Virgil, Plato,
Plotinus, and Porphyrius,

To him the life of Socrates is a continual symbol of the life of
Jesus, the doctrines of the one are identical with those of the
other. Thus antiquity received the benediction of Christianity,
which in its turn was proved to be true by antiquity. What feet
could be of higher concern to the learned of the fifteenth
century ? Ficino was so full of these ideas, so enthusiastic about
them, that he sometimes seemed to look upon himself as the
founder of a new religion rather than the inventor of a new
system.

He wrote a large number of epistles, translations, and tractates
in Latin ; but the greatest and most solid monument to his fame
was the first and, for a long time, the only good translation of
Plato's works. At this he laboured unremittingly for a great
part of his life, while meditating another work which was to be
a systematic summary of the mass of his doctrines. Touching
this, he tells us that he was long in uncertainty as to whether
this work should be a philosophical exposition of the ancient
Pagan religion, or a demon^traUon of Christianity, made with the

THE PLATONIC ACADEMY.

M3

ance of ancient philosophy. The latter idea prevailed ;
nevertheless his new book was entitled ** Platonic Theology/* which
plainly shows the author's groove of thought- It is a vast and
ill-arranged encyclopedia of learning, written in a confused and
CJlourless style, a defect observable in all his works^ since,
Ithough he had consumed his whole life over the clas<?ics, the
Uncertainty of his ideas made it impossible for him to acquire any
il originality or vigour of style. After careful examination of
ie **Theologia Platonica," we might almost say that the
aaterials accumulated in it are, as it were, beginning to ferment^
and that consequently certain assimilations take place^ of which
the author is unaware. In fact, there is something in it that
may be called a result of the thought of the age, an impersonal

Krogress in science^ of which Ficino himself appears to be rather
ne instrument than the author. The question of the cnnsuiio or
on-consulto agti in nature is, that around which from the com-
rnencement all the others are grouped, and it is solved in the
same manner as by Gemistos Plethon. He find.s in the world

K¥0 different categories of souls. The first consists of intellectual,
niversal souls ; the other of sensitive, mortal, but also reasoning
>ub. These, \vhich he calls the i/nrii essences of things, are to
be found throughout nature, which they animate. The earthy
Hght, air, the planets, have each their third essence, and that
explains why the earth produces plants^ the water fish, &c. The
third essences are also divided into twelve orders, according to the
twelve constellations of the zodiac ; but these are united, and are
mingled togetlier to form souls or third essences of a more
general character. Thus in our own planet, water, earth, and air
has each its own third essence ; but this planet has also its special,
more general, third essence which embraces all the others*

Then, too, man has two souls, one rational and sensitive, the
third essence of the body, which dies ; the other intellectual,
immortal, emanating directly from God. By means of this, the
creature finds himself in relation with the Creator and with the
possibiUty of coming into contact with Him ; in this are mirrored
ill the others, which breathe life into the universe. Thus man is
microcosm ; he can descend to the animals, to inanimate nature,
md rise to the angeis, to God who speaks to him and guides him.
Then, too, stars, planets, and even the stones have, by their third
essences, direct influence over man's passions^ man's destiny.
\,nd thus is demonstrated the truth of the occult sciences, in

144

INTRO D UCTION,

which Ficino had an almost childish belief. His continual
melancholy was attributed by him to the influence of Saturn ;
and every day he was careful to change the amulets which he
always wore upon his person. He wrote a treatise on all these
things, entitled : *' De \ita coelitus comparenda/' ' which must be
read in order to understand the point reached by the superstitious
prejudices of a vxTy learned man, and of a very advanced age.
The faith in occult sciences cherished by the most remarkable
men of the Renaissance, is another of the numerous contradictions
we find in that period. Yet, on carefully considering; the
question, we perceive that this faith was fed by the need of re-
placing supernatural by natural explanations, even when science
was impotent to find them. If we now glance at this philosophy
of Ficino^s in its entirety^ there clearly stands out an irresistible
tendency to such an universal and rational soul, which^ in his
writings, seems in fact to be confounded with the world and with
God Himself. His third essences are identical with the ideas of
Plato in an Aristotelian shape> which are afterwards united in
more general souls, and how was it possible that they should not
all be united in one soul ? Is not the world, according to Ficino^s
own words, a great living animal ? Has jiot nature a rational
»oul that constiito agitf Only in presence of these natural^
inevitable consequences of his own premisses, our author stops
himself, as it were, in affright, because he must accept and explain
creation from the void, and cannot renounce the personal God of
Christianity.

When, however, he begins to give a philosophical explanation
of creation, he always recurs to the same ideas, and again
approaches the consequences from which he rebels, God
conceives (and in the Div^ine mind conception is equivalent to
creation) the sensitive soul of things, and the angelic immortal
soul. With this He forms the angel Sp and by their means creates
the third essences which are too far beneath Him for Him to
condescend to directly create thera. But in man, besides the
third essences, or soul of the body, there is also an immortal one
directly infused by God, and by means of which the creature
comes in contact with the Creator, In short, Ficino 's creation is
an emanation ; his God is the soul and the unity of the worlds
indeed, the only definition he can give of it is the absolute unity
of all things. Pantheism, the logical consequence of this system,
* Lugduni, 1567.

i

THE PLATONIC ACADEMW

»45

5, in the very atmosphere of the fifteenth century, which found
[410 other way of reconciling God and nature, the Divine and the
iTiuman. Already scientifically sketched out by Cusano, and
rendered popular by Ficino, it was afterwards lucidly formulated
and maintained by Bruno. Cusano and Bnino^ however, were
real thinkers and philosophers, while Ficino was merely a learned
man who wrote on philusophy without much originality. The
Pantheistic idea showed itself in his works in an indistinct,
sed, almost unconscious manner ; but it was precisely this
proved it to be an outcome of the general need of the time,
caused its instant popularity, and made it penetrate deeply into
literature. In the verses of Lorenzo the Magnificent, of Poliziano,
of Albert!, in many even of the contemporaneous prose writers,
e see the personal God changed into the absolute, the world is
the great cosmos which it inhabits and animates ; nature herself,
no longer despised, becomes almost divine. And this transforma-
tion, as we have already said, was the work of Ficino and the
Platonic Academy. Both vanished without establishing a new
system, but tliey left instead a n^v^ method of looking upon the
•■world J and a new conception of the Deity.

Ficino*s enthusiastic ardour in expounding the new doctrines
found a wide echo both in Italy and abroad. Students came from
all parts of the world to attend the lectures he gave at the Studio.
Many Englishmen carried Italian Hellenism to their own coun-
try ; Reuchlin himself, in passing through Florence, was more
than ever conv^erted to the nt^w ideas, which met with great
favour in Germany, where Reformation bt^gan with the individual
interpretation of the Holy Scriptures, and by placing the believer
in direct communication with his Creator, without the need of any
mediator. In Italy, on the contrary, the results of learning always
remained merely literar),^ and scientific.

Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, so celebrated throughout
Europe, was known among us by the name of the intellectual
PhoE-nix, on account of the knowledge attributed to him of

enty-two languages, of his great learning and extraordinary

emorj'. To these gifts he united much goodness of character

an amiable and attractive appearance, atid although of

icely family, he had abandoned everything for his studies.

Excited by the praises showered upon him, and by a philosophy

which pretended to embrace the whole universe in its allegories,

e proposed a strange species of cientific tournament, that was

rot* I* II

I man
HPantl

ca**~ "'

lit

K

I

146 INTRODUCTION.

to be held in Rome. He had summed up all knowledge in
nine hundred conclusions, on each of which he declared himself
prepared to make a reply to scholars from all parts, whom he
invited to discuss with him, promising to pay the travelling
expenses of all those who were poor. The experiment was
prevented from taking place by the difficulties raised by the Pope,
to whose authority Giovanni Pico was always most submissive.
But notwithstanding his great reputation, this scholar^s inteUect
was substantially but little different from that of Fidno's other
followers. His acquirements, though extensive, were superficial,
his judgments dictated rather by enthusiasm than critical faculty.
He considered the poems of Lorenzo dei Medici superior to those
of Dante and Petrarch. Of the majority of the twenty-two
languages he was supposed to have studied, he knew little more
than the alphabet and the elements of grammar. He was, how-
ever, one of the first promoters of Oriental studies, as well as one
among the best of Greek and Latin scholars. But neither his
Italian and Latin writings, much less his philosophy, show any
marks of originality. He tried to reconcile Averhoes and
Avicenna, Scotus and St. Thomas, Plato and Aristotle, in order
to combat the enemies of the Church. This, of necessity, brought
about his union with Ficino, who desired to fight " the religion of
ignorance and the philosophy of unbelief At first a friend of
the Medici, he ended by becoming an enthusiastic admirer of
Savonarola, and was buried in the Church of St. Mark, shrouded,
according to his last wish, in the frock of the Dominican friars.^
He ceased to live in 1494, a memorable year in the history of
Italy, and of all Europe. Platonists and the learned men now
disappeared very rapidly from the scene, and the national litera-
ture, so long in course of preparation, began to shine forth in all
its new brilliancy.

8. Revival of Italian Literature.

In the fifteenth century our vulgar tongue had much decayed,
chiefly by fault of the men of learning, who either \vrote in Latin
or twisted Italian into an artificial imitation of that tongue. In
the year 1441, on the occasion of the stay of Pope Eugene IV. in
Florence, a grand literary meeting took place in the Cathedral
under the name of Acadcmia Corouarta^ because a silver crown

* See my ** Storia di G. SavonaroLi," &c., book i. chap. v.

offered to him who should recite the best Italian verses upon
friendship. And after all the prize could not be adjudged to aoy
of the competitors, and so wretched were these verses that to this
day no one can read them without amazement at their corrupt
taste and puerile artifice. Still it would be a mistake to suppose
that all had given up writing in the vulgar tongue. Italian songs
composed by writers of little note, but many in number, were
sung by the people both in town and country, and many famihar
letters^ tales, romances, and chronicles were also viTitten in Italian,
It was a literature chiefly made for the people, and in which the
people took part in many ways, although it cannot be called
popular in the strict sense of the word. And throughout the
fifteenth century it continued to increase in importance^ until the
inen of learning also forsook Latin, and recurring to Italian, thus
initiated a second epoch in the history of our letters. The
Platonists may be included among those who first returned to the
vulgar tongue. Cristoforo Landino had materially assisted in
this, promoting by his commentaries the study of Dante and
Petrarch. But to Leon Battista Alberti must be awarded a still
more honourable post. Bom in 1404 at Venice, whither his
family had been exiled, he soon proved himself a most remarkable
man. Of very rare strength and beauty^ he succeeded no less
admirably in all bodily exercises than in mental labour. Accom-
plished in music, singing, and the arts of design, he was versed in
letters and had studied the moral, as well as the mathematical or
natural sciences, in which many discoveries are attributed to
^Uxn.^ Landino, Poliziano,' and others exalt not only the uni-
versal ity of his genius, but also^ which is more noteworthy, his
singular merit in promoting the study and use of Italian. This,
too, is plainly shown in his works, although many disputes have
arisen concerning them. Some of Alberti's verses have certainly

* See the *' Commenlario alia Vila di L. B. Alberli," in the fourth volume of

^YasA^ri, Le Monnier edition, Tirahoschi, '* S, L. I.,/* vol. vi. p. 414 and foL ; the

^Bltion of L. B. Alberti*5 **Opere." ediie<l by liomicci and published in Florence

^P*ip. Galileiana) in 1843 and following years. This edition includes a Life of

Alhcrli by an anonymous aiiihor* Sec also ihc ** Elogi di L. B» Albert! " in the

worki of G. B. NicoUni, Le Monnier edition, 1843^ vol, iii. p. 401 and fob ; the

'* Elogio '' wrilten by Powtetti, published in Florence in 17S9, and finally ** Gli

Albert! di Firenze, Genealogia," &c., recently brought out by Cav, L. Passcrini in

iwo large and cle^nt volumes, by commission of the Due de Lugnes. Florence,

fiUinj, 1S70.
• See Bandini's " Specimen/' vo!. i. p. 164 j Tiraboschi's ** S. L. L," vol. vi.
p* 420, in which a letter by Poli^iano i^ given.

148

INTRODUCTION.

a singular freshness and spontaneity ^ which would excite surprise^
had not Poliziano and Lorenzo dei Medici already warned us that
the Italian muse was now awaking, animated by a new spirit, and
almost born again to a second youth. His prose Is still very
artificial in its imitation of Latin \ yet one work entitled ^* La crura
della famiglia^' merits special mention, particularly its third book,
** L'Economico '' or ** II Padre di famiglia,'- in which a good
father of a family and the best way of ruling a household is
carefully described. This is almost a separate work, and in a
preface to it, Alberti takes the defence of the Italian language
which he declares to be in no wise inferior to the Latin,* and
promises to try and make use of a ** bare and simple style " (*' stile
nudo e semplice*'') Certainly, in this book his prose is far more
spontaneous and familiar than usual ; the author seems to wish to-
return to the golden simplicity of the Trecento*

'* L'Economico ^- is generally known in the much freer and
more popular form given to it by Agnolo Pandolfini under tbe
title of ** Del Governo della famiglia,** and in this form it is one
of the finest monuments of our national literature. It is main-
tained by some that Pandolfini copied and improved on Alberti^
but this is denied by others. What is certain is that the former
writes in familiar Italian, in a rich and graphic style, not always
free from grammatical errors, while Alberti in correcting these
errors J obscures the golden simplicity of him who appears to be
his precursor. In his language one perceives the mixture of the
popular and learned styles, but the two elements are not always
well combined. If Alberti decided on imitating and almost copy-
ing the work of another, this is only additional proof that the
book expressed the feelings and opinions of the period, and this
giv^es it importance not only in the history of our language and
literature, but also in that of Italian society.^

« Sec the *' Opere " of Alberti and Trucchi's *' Poesie Italianc incdite." Pratc^
1846-47, vol ii. p. III.

^ Alberiit " Opere," vol. ii. p. 221 and foL

5 This book, generally held to be the work of Pandolfini, was afterwards
attributed to Alberti, especially by Sigrior F. Palermo, who ttxik up the question
so holly and exaggerated jio much in his ** t^rolegomini " added to the ** Padre
di famiglia" (Florence, tipogratia Cenniniana scicntifiea, 1S72) as to enlirely
forgL-l the method and limits of scientific criticism^ Pandollini died before
Alberti, and it is hard to imagine that he would have copied from learned prose
and not only turned it into familiar spoken Italian, but inirotluced idioms
and ungrammalicai esprcssions where none existed before. Alberti, however, ex-

J^E VIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE. 149

The ** Govemo della famiglia " is the work of a man who lived
between the end of the fourteenth and beginning of the fifteenth
centiir\', and, after uking part in poUtkal struggles, had retired
disgusted to the countr\* to devote himself to composition. Thus
we have a faithful description of the social, moral, amd intellectual
condition of Italians in the fifteenth century, such as we search for
in vain in the pages of histor\\ In particular, we find a profound
disgust of political life, •'^ that life of insults, en^y, pasfion^^, and
suspicions." * The Italian spirit already feels coodetojied to fall
back upon itself, without fincting in its awn oonjdence the com*
fort of religious life. Virtue seems to be nothing but the result
of an almost artistic well being, *^ it is all gaiety and grace/* * All
that is desired is to ha\^ the mind undbturbed by any cupidity,
repentance^ or grief ; * hones^ is wo(man*s finest ornanuni ; vice
makes her \nilgar and ugly. * In this book the new tendencies
infused by Platonism in the Italian mind are very apparent.
Virtue, in feet, proceeds finom a necc^sarj' law of our nature, not
fii-om the command of any superior authority. When the head of
the family marries, he leads his wife before tbe household shrine
of the Madonna, and there kneeling down together, they pray,
not to the virgin nor the saints, but to the Most High. Neither
do they supplicate for happiness in the other woiid, but only that
it may be given to them to enjoy the goods of thk life. 7*he wife
must know how to govern her faoosdiokl with tact and geotSoiCiif
in order to maintain general hanmmf^ and en«ure general weU
being. Reading these thtogi is Eke looldng upon one of Ma<accio't
or Lippi's pictures. Tho-c is no cAift towards the Infinite, there
is a quiet, self-contented YmnsMOf^ raentbKng the univena) prtn«
dple of life as it was then mndentood by Italiam. E%'efy little
detail of the picture brings bdbre o«r eyes the democracy of
Florence, with its refinement and dvil equality* Whereat in
almost all the rest of Europe the peasant was idll the ilave of
the soil, here he had aheady becoiDe his niastef't torment. He
want^ an ox, a cow, oriheep to be bought for htm ; wanti to have
his debts paid ; asks for a dowry for hb dwi^itrr ; to have a houM
built and the fumstsje proridcd ; and widttif if orv^ contoited^

pressly rlcdared hamdi to br Ibr 1

Paodolfioi, il>e odfcy r»o wiA wamm mgtm^ aig wiir f 1 take a mmOMf fkw.

' Pandottm, " TraaUB Jd tpwua > ^kl^ fi wi i> ii r p^ Jl f Vcatoe, G mA tMt m
Printing Pres, 1S41. ' n«L, f, ^ * fML* F H* ' n^« ^ ^^

3 UAid*^ p. 42-

ISO

INTRO D UCTION.

But the founts of the new literature are many in number ; and
while speaking only of prose, we must mention the political and
diplomatic correspondences which became^ in this century, one of
the most notable branches of our literature. These were no
displays of rhetoric, but written for the purpose of conducting
affairs to a given end ; therefore they soon attained remarkable
simplicity, spontaiieityt and lucidity.

In the recently published '' Commissioni *^ of Rinaldo degli
Albizzij* we notice the writer^ efforts to graft the uncu!ti%'ated
language of the people upon the Latin periods of the learned.
But in the letters of Lorenzo dei Medici, these efforts are at an end^
and the new political prose has triumphed over every difficulty
without however concealing its two original elements. Of these
letters, Guicciardini himself speaks in the highest praise,^ They
show on the one hand the admirable prudence with which Lorenzo
sought to maintain the political balance of Italy^ the great
authority exercised by him over all the States of the Peninsula^
and on the other, the popular ease with which this disciple of
Ficino and Poliziano knew how to write. When Ferdinand of
Naples w^ished to form a special alliance with the Pope, Lorenzo
immediately sets to work to prevent '' this spark of change in
Italy /^ ^ and a general peace is concluded instead. When his
daughter Maddalena marries Francesco Cibo, the Pope^s natural
son, he instantly gives notice that he does not intend to form any
compacts to the hurt of the general ipeace of Italy^ nor to make
far -stretching plans for the future, since it is better **to think day
by day, and dance in time to the music that one hears. ^* ^ When
the Pope wished to call the Duke of Lorraine into Italy^ Lorenzo
uses every effort to prev^ent it, alleging the many dangers it would
bring about, and reminding his Holiness " that human hands can-
not hold the reins of fortune,'* The Duke of Milan, Lodovico il
Moro, always uncertain, changeable, and ambitious, who hourly
caused fresh complications, must be treated, says Lorenzo^ as suit&

*■ These have been published in three vols, by the Societa di Storia Ptitria i
Florence. Cellini, 1867-69, and go from ihe year 1399 down to 1433.

'In his ** Sioria Fiorcntina/^

^ A. Desjanlins. *VN6gocialions diplomaltques tie k France avec la Toscane**
(3 vols. 4to) : Paris, 1859-65* Iinprimene Impcriale, voK i. p. 214* It is only
just to mention that the chief part of these documents were discovered by aa
ItAlian* fi. Canestrini.

* Fabronl, ** Vita Laurentii Medicis/' Pisisr 1 784, vol ii. p, 312, note 179.

s IbidM vol. ii* p. 359, note 206.

RE VIVAL OF ITALIAN LITER A TURE,

151

his nature, namely, by giving way to him as long as is possible
without danger ; but in such a way ** as to remain in the saddle
even if he should tr\^ to fling out." Therefore is it all the more
necessary to keep on friendly terms with the V^enetians, " so as
always to have some anchors in the sea/* >

And when his son Giovanni, who at the age of seventeen years
had been for some time a Cardinal is starting for Rome, Lorenzo
warns him of the dangers to which he will be exposed in that verj^
corrupt cit\', and remind?^ him that union \\\th the Church is use-
ful to Florence, and that '* the interest of our family goes u4th
that of the city» so that you ought to be a good link in the matter ;
and at all events there should not fail 3^ou the means of saving
l>oth the goat and the cabbages, as the saying goes/*^ This easy,
ramiliar, vigorous style of prose soon became very general in Tus-
'c:any, and Loren/o dei Medici was one of the first to make use of
it, as he was also one of the first to write verses in the vulgar
tongue. In the fourteenth century, two different styles of poetry
lad been grafted one upon the other, which to this day can be
easily distinguished in the sonnets and canzonets of that time^ and
^ven in the ** Divina Commedia *^ itself.

The one was simple, clear, natural — an inspiration which, if not

wholly popular, was certainly much nearer to the people than the

kther poetry, which was artificial* allegorical, scholastic, courtly^

>f the French or Provencal school. (3ut of this union of different

elements, the national genius, even then assisted by classical

studies, had extracted a new literature. And this easily penetrated

among the people, who, fascinated and carried away by an art

£>• ond their own power, and yet entirely to their taste, and fitted

'to their comprehension, had little longer need of other songs, and

other tales. Rut towards the end of the fourteenth century,

literar\' men wrote in Latin, and the people, who, amid their

struggles for Uberty. had made much progress in civilization, had

' once more to provide for themselves. Throughout the Tuscan

land were then heard new songs, new rispcttL w^w roundelays, ^

* Fabroni, ** Viui I^urcntii Mcdicis/* Pisis, 17S4, vol. ii. p, 363.

* Kabroni calls ihis Jeiter the song of the bwan, (anqHtvn cycnca fuit* l)ecause
Lorcozo died soon aflenvaids (vol. ii. p. 30S, note 17S).

^ We have already suen m Pandolfini, that the Italian peasantry, and more
cspcctally the Tuscan, who are here in tjuestioii, were in the iifteenth century
Mpcrior in cuhure and prosperity to those of the rcsL uf Europe. The novel
writers, like Sacchetti» for instance (see Xovelle 8S and a02)» frequently speak of
shrevrd, well-to-do i>eaAants» In the '* Beca ili Dicomano,*' in which the author.

152

INTROD UCTJON,

while in the towns there was a prcdigious crop of novels, tales,

and knightly adventures, which had travdled to us from Francej

be>ides i^acred representations or mysteries. And all these were

naturally in the vulgar tongue*

A few Ri>petti, a few Strambotti» and a certain number of songs

really issued from the heart of the people. To this day they are

still to be heard in the villages of Tuscany, where, as D'Ancona

observes, they seem echoes of the last creative efforts of a nation

on the point of losing its liberty/ But there are many others,

besides tales of chivalry^ and sacred and profane plays, which

cannot be called popular creations, since they were generally the

compositions of public storytellers, who, although belonging to

the class for which they wrote, possessed a certain amount of

roui^^h and i in perfect culture. In these, many classical reminiscences

and tricks of rhetoric are to be found, but very seldom the true

impulsiveness of the popular vein. Still these works have a

certain simplicity, and even a certain ingenious delicacy of feeling,

which atte>t their semi-popular origin* and recall the fact that in

those times the higher classes and men of cultivation were much

more corrupt than the people. While the learned men were

employed upon works tike the ^* Ermafrodito/* ' the ** Invettive,'*

and obscenities of every description, the story-tellers narrated the

fantastic feats of knights-errant, the unhappy loves of Hippolitus

and Dianora, and their heroic self-devotion ; > the sorrows of

Ginevra degli Ahnieri, who, coming out of the tomb in which she

has been buried alivci is not recognized either by her husband or

her own mother, who both refuse her shelter. Her first lover,

from whom she had been forcibly torn, is the only one who sees

that she is really flesh and blood, and who now joyfully gives her

refuge.

** Mischiando la letizia col iluloreN"^

Fuki, tlescriVfCs peasant life, a ].>e!isant says to his sweetheart : — *" Thou knowest
that I am ignoraiu and worthy— and I have cattle* and houses, and land. If thou
wouldsL lake me* I would take thee.'' — See also Burckhardt, " Die CuUur der
Kt-naissancct" lirsi edition, p. 356.

' A, D'Ancona, *' La Poesie Fopolare Fioreniina ncl Sccolo/* xv.

* This work was published in the *' Rivinta Contemiwjranea " of Turin, vol, xxx.
No, 106, SepteinWr, 1 862. See also Carducd's rt^niarks in his preface to the
volume, *' Le Kime, le Stanzc e TOrfco*' of A. iViliziano : Florencej Barlxrra, 1S63.
These two writers are those who have gone most thoroughly into the subject ol
ancient jwjpular Italian [ioetrj',

5 This legend is also to be found in the works of Leon Battista .\]berli»

* Repuljlisbed by A. D^Ancona (Pisa, Nistrii 1S63). Sec, too, the three

RE VIVAL OF ITALIAN LITER A TURE.

153

Italian poetry of the fifteenth century was chiefly based by the
Uerati on what was generally, if somewhat incorrectly known as
pular poetry. Among us undoiibtt'dly the songs of men of
tters and those of the people are so much intermingled, and
ercisc so much reciprocal influence^ that even for the most acute
and intelligent critics it is often extremely difficult to disentangle
the one from the other. But in any case^ one of the firsts not
merely to protect, but to promote and cultivate the new poetry,
as Lorenzo dei Medici. To one who founded a tyranny by
leaning on the people in opposition to the nobihty, it was highly
nvenient to make him,^elf also a popular poet, particularly in a
ty like Florence^ where intellectual dominion was the firmest
5iis of political power. In fact the w^oodcuts of the period repre*
sent Lorenzo singing verses to the populace.

In order to do justice to Lorenzo*s literary merits it is by no

means necessary to join in the extravagant flights of Koscoe and

Ruth^ who try to prove him a genius.' In his poetry, as in

everything else, he displayed great knowledge of human nature

md a fine taste, without, however, having sufficient elevation of

mind to reach the heights of art. This too is shown by his own

:ccount of his earliest inspirations. On the death of the beautiful

liraonetta, the beloved of Giuliano dei Medici, many poets, among

Poliziano,^ wrote verses in her honour, Lorenzo, in order

something of the same kind, feigned to have lost his lady

ive, but then sought for a living one, whom he found in Lucrezia

onati,3 a beautiful and spirited young girl, and immediately

applied himself to the composition of love songs. But this did

lot prevent him from making arrangements in Rome for his

arriage with Clarice Orsini, His mother Lucrezia Tornabuoni,

iVTiting at this time to her husband, Piero dei Medici, speaks of the

f of **Sacre Rnppresentazioni dei Secoli," xiv., xv., and xvi., by the same
Florencet Le Monnier, 1872.
' Far ju5ler is the judgment of tiino Capponi in bis ** Storia della RepubbHca
Florentma/' and of Baron dc Reaumonl in his work, ** Lorenzo dei Medici/*
Ldpsic, 1S73. Carducd has rretjuently writlen with great originality of Lorenzo's
ptetk faculty and temperament, but in our opinion he praises him rather too

' ** Dutti pijkhra eflertiir nlgro Simonetta feretro Blandus ct examini spiral in ore

' **Coraento di Lorenzo di Medici sopra alcuni del suoi Sonetti, nel fine deUe
jse poesie volgari" (edition of 1554). See also Roscoe, ** Life of Lorenzo dei
Medicj." chap. lt«

154 INTRODUCTION.

bride in the following terms : " She is of seemly stature and of
fair complexion, and has sweet manners, if less gracious than ours ;
she has great modesty, and so will soon fall in with our customs.
Her hair is not fair, for there is no such thing here ; her tresses
incline to red, and she has great abundance of them. Her visage
inclines to be rather round, but it does not displease me. Her
throat is well turned, but seems to me somewhat thin. Her
bosom we cannot see, for it is here the fashion to wear it covered
up, but it appears to be of good quality. Her hand is long and
slender, and altogether we rate the maiden much above the
common." ' But after this minute description of the bride's
physique, she has not a word to say of her mind, talents, or
character. Lorenzo, who became betrothed to this young girl
at the age of twenty-one, wrote these words in his Ricordi,*
June 4, 1469 : " I have taken a wife, or rather she was given
to me " (Tolsi donna . . . ox'vero mi fu data), and his verses show
him to be the true son of his mother. At the age of seventeen^
he described the lips, eyes, and hair of his mistress, praised the
mountains, the flowery meadow, the river, the rustic solitudes, in
which he could gaze upon her image far from the noise of towns.
Even at that time we find fine taste and ease in his verses, which
are written in a spontaneous, and sometimes too familiar a manner :
he describes nature and the actual world with the graphic power
of a keen obser\'er. These qualities were afterwards still more
conspicuous in Lorenzo's various compositions, for he had a
genuine admiration for the beautiful, loved country life, and was
a true artist and painter of the outer world. To his descriptive
power he unites in his " Beoni " a mordant and satiric spirit ; but
the special characteristics of his poetry are chiefly apparent in his
** Canzoni a ballo '' taken from popular sources and given in their
real form, and in his " Canti Carnascialeschi " of which barely the
germ existed, and to which he gave a place in literature, thus
becoming the creator of that description of verse.

The ruling idea in these poems is : enjoy your life to-day, give
yourselves up to pleasure, and take no thought for the morrow.
Young men, be not timid with women, and as for you ladies — :

* ** Tre lettere di Lucrezia Tornabuoni a Piero dei Medici, ed altre lettere di vari
concemenli al matrimonio di Lorenzo il Magnifico con Clarici Orsini." Marriage
album collected by Cesare Guasti. Florence : Le Monnier, 1859.

* Reprinted by Roscoe, in the Apj^endix to his "Life of Lorenzo," Doc. xii.

REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE. 155

" Arrendete^-i, belle,
A'vostri innamorati,
Rendcte e^ ciifjr furadf
Noil fate giierra a^ maggio." *

The crafty politician who nought to stupefy his people in the gross
sensuality in which he himself indulged, here :ihows his nature
openly, with great impulsiveness of style and freshness of form^
But herc» too, we see that his is an art of corruption carrying its
own condemnation on it^ face. If in his ** Canzoni a hallo" (songs
for dancing), he contents himself with the plea>urcs of idleness
and of a life of sensuality, in the ** Canti Camasclaleschi/* he goes
much further. Some of these bring before us with much gaiety^
mythological figures that are full of life ; others again describe
indecencies too horrible to be mentioned in these days, and which
nvere then openly sung in the public thoroughfares, the acknow-
ledged works of a prince who had gained the admiration of the
'wrhole civilized world. He was accustomed to direct the carni%'al
festivities and masquerades, calling sculptors and painters' to his
assistance to enhance their brilliancy, and using elegance of taste
as an engine for the corruption of manners. He had music com-
posed on purpose to accompany his obscene songs. He associated
with the literah\ artists, and populace, and was the soul and
leader of the bacchanalian revels. Still it must be confessed that
Lorenzo, by taking up the different kinds of poetry he found
diffused among the people, and endowing them with artistic
dignity, made himself the promoter of a literar\^ rev^olution, in
iivhich, although surpassed by some of his contemporaries, he
nevertheless took a very high place.^

But the principal reviver of Italian poetr).* in the fifteenth
century was Angelo Ambrogini of Monte Pulciano, called Poli-
ziano. Born the 14th of July, 1454, he was, up to 1474, a student
in the Florentine Studio, where he followed the teachings of

' The Canzone begins thus :^

** Ben venga maggio
E 'I gonfabn selvaggio/'
Vasari, in his ** Vita di riero Hi Cosimo/' tells us of the care with which these
' ietcs, which long continued in Florence, were arranged, and declares ihem to be
tkin^te tharjien metis ivits. ** Cant! Czirnascialcschi *^ by different authors were
afterwards collected in two volumes hy Loj^ca : Fiorenia, 1559.

' See the remarks of Carducci in his fine ** Prefazione alle Puesie di Loietizo,**
Florence ; Barbara.

iS6

INTRO D UCTION,

Fid no, Andronicus, Argiropulos, and Landino. At the age of
sixteen he had already begun a translation of Homer, which
made Ficiiio accord him the title of the Homeric child^ and
secured to him the lasting protection of Lorenzo, who receiving
the youth in his own palace^ made him tutor to his son Pierc*
At twenty-nine years he was professor of Greek and Latin elo-
quence in the Studio^ and his lessons were attended not only by
Italians like Pico della Mirandola and the Medici themselves^ but
by foreigners of all nations. Soon after, in 148b, He was named
canon of the cathedral. In a short time hfs fame filled all Italy,
and even crossed the Alps» He showed ver}' great critical acumen
an his ** Miscellaoeai'' particularly in his collations of old texts.
Afterwards* too, in collating the edition of the '* Pandects,'^ pub-
lished at Venice in 1450, with the Lauren tian Codex known as
the ^* Pandects of Amalfi/' he made certain observations which,
although m*erpraised, showed the great aid philosophy could render
to jurisprudence.' Polimno^s best productions are undoubtedly
his poems J and often the finest introductor}^ addresses which he
delivered in the chair were nothing but Latin verses, in the
composition of which he was unrivalled, even during early youth.
At the age of eighteen he had earned praise by his Greek verses ;
but had taken the world by storm with his Latin elegy on the
death of Albiera degli Albizzi. In this the pagan feeling for
beauty of formi and the ethereal grace of the painters of the
Quattrocento seem to be blended together j the Italian language
fused with the Latin^ which, in spite of being a dead tongue, has
here the freshness of a lining and spoken language. It would
seem as though the breath of popular Italian song inspired new
life into the man of learning, and enabled him to endow his
Latin with the primitive spontaneity of the Greek. In this elegy
we find the same unapproachable elegance, the same wealth of
description, the same somewhat artificial diction as in his immortal
Italian stanzas. Very beautiful are the last words of the dying
w^oman to her husband, who, with terror-stricken eyes is watching

' Isidoro del Lungo, " Dno scolare dello Studio Fiorentino/* a uiemoir pub-
lished in the **Nuova Antologia of Florence/' voL x. p. 215, and fol. By ihc
same author &ec " La Patria e gli anlenati di Angelo Poliaano ■' in the ** Archivio
Storico Itahano," Series III., vol. %\. p. 9 and fol.

■ Professor Bonamici of Pisa has examined ihc notes on the Pandects of his
'Work ** II Poliziano GiureconsuUo" (Pisa), Nisiri, 1S63, and has endeavoured to
reduce the auihor's merit within lis ju^t limits.

REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE.

>ST

11

the ever-increasing pallor stealing over the coutitenance of the
loved one who

** lUius aspect u morlentia lutnina pascit»'*

l-^nd already feels herself being borne away to another life ;

**,,♦. Heu J nostro lorpt:t in ore sonus ;
Heu rapior ! Tu vive ml hi, tibi moriua vivara.
Caligant oculi iam mihi morte graves.'*

These gift?, which Poliziano possessed from the firsts grew ever
riper, as may be seen by many of his later poems, especially in
that on the death of the fair Simonetta, and the very fine one
upon violets,' In reading these Hncs^ more classical than any
before written by the men of learning, the reader^ sometimes
almost carried away^ may fancy he sees the Latin transforming
itself into the new and lovely flower of Italian poetry, which in
truth is budding to life again before his eyes. For now, in fact»
the Italian chrysalis breaks though the Latin shell in which it
ad so long been hidden, and at last comes forth into the sun-
light.

Poliziano has earned inmiortality in the history of our literature^
by the " Stanze '* uTitten by him for the Joust of Giuliano dei
Medici, and which signalize the commencement of the second and
no less splendid period of Italian poetry. They form the beginning
of a poem that breaks off at the forty-sixth octave of the second
book, interrupted, very probably, by the murder of Giuliano in
the Pa2zi plot.* The work, however, is not of a nature to lose

* " Afolles o violae, Veneris muouscula nostrae,

Duke qui bus tanli pignus araoris inest ;

Quae vosj quae genu it tellus ? quo n eel are odoras

Sparseruiit Zephyri mollis et aura comas ?

Vos ne in acidaliis aluit Venus aurea canipis ?

Voa ne sub Idaiio pavit Amor ncmore ?

His ego credideriin cithiras ornare corullis,

Permessi in roseu margine Pieridas.

Hoc llorc ambrosios incingitur Ilora capillos.

Hoc tegit indocika Gratia blanda sinus,

Hoc Aurora suae nectit redimicuia fronii,

Cum roseum verno pandit ab axe dienit*' &c,
» II is generally believed that these " Stanze '* were written in 1469, that is, when
Polixiano was only tiftcen years of age. The mistake arose through confounding
the Joust of Lorenzo uilh that of Giuliano, The former was really given in 1469,

158 INTRODUCTION.

much by being left unfinished, as it is totally wanting in unity
and epic matter, so that it is very hard to divine how the poet
would have continued or finished it. Its great merit consists in
its limpid, elegant style, which has an incomparable freshness.
Carducci justly observes that the octave verse, that was diffuse
in Boccaccio, diluted in Pulci, harsh and unequal in Lorenzo
dei Medici, acquires in Poliziano's poetry the unity, harmony,
•colour, variety, and character which it has ever since preserved.
Placed between the original primitive literature of the Trecento,
and the more varied, refined, yet still imitative literature that
:flourished in the Cinquecento, it unites the vigour of the one
with the grace of the other, thus resembling those masters of the
•Quattrocento, who improved upon the painting of Giotto, and per-
fected the technicalities of their art without falling into the con-
ventionalities which so quickly arose in the Cinquecento. But we
must remember that all this is only true as regards form, since, as
to substance, Poliziano certainly has neither the elevation nor
vigour of Dante, nor the imagination of Ariosto. But it is a form
which may be called poetry itself, since it always depicts nature
with unapproachable eloquence. Poliziano's women are neither
50 mystic and ethereal as Dante's, nor so sensuous as Ariosto's ;
they have, however, a delicious delicacy and sweetness ; they
recall the pictured forms of Lippi and Ghirlandaio. The fair
Simonetta stands out in the ** Stanze " a real and visible woman,
yet she does not lack ideal beauty ;

** Ridegli attorno tutta la foresta,

L'aer d'intorno si fa tuito ameno,
Ovunque gira le luci amorose.'

» »» X

The poet only seeks reality, but it is always an elegant and

and was described by Luca Pulci, say some, by his brother Luigi, say others. In
any case, it is a work of little merit and very artificial. The poet says to Lorenzo :
" Thy victory (in the tilting match) has naught to envy of the victories of ^Emilius,
Marcellus, Scipio ; thou hast well earned the honour :

'* ' Di riportar te stesso in su la chioma,*
1.^., laurels upon Lauro's head." The Joust of Giuliano was instead given
January 28, 1475, ^^^ ^^ described by Poliziano, who was then twenty-one. It
is, indeed, possible that the *' Otta ve " were written in 1478, and that they
described another Joust, which took place in the early part of that year. All this
has been brought to light by Professor Del Lungo. See his own words given in
Carducci*s preface to Poliziano's Poems, p. xxix.
* " Stanze," book i. pp. 43, 44.

JiE VIVAL OF ITALIAN LITER A TURE,

'59

irracious reality. His images, freed from mediceval mysticism,
eem to make use of the mythological garb in which they are
iften enfolded, to cover without hiding the forms of the body
rom which they are never separated. Their nudity appears from
ime to time adorned with classic enamel of a Pagan freshness
hat is specially charactt^ristic of the Renaissance.

Who, after reading in the ** Vita Nuova '' or the ** Divina
!Iommedia," the descriptions of Beatrice^ ever on the point of
ansformation into theology^ turns to the ballad written by
Mimpio of Sassoferrato and notes these lines :

** La hruneititia mia

Con Tacqiia delta fonte
Si Java M di la fronte

E 11 seren pelto^" &c.»

will immediately perceive the distance traversed, and appreciate
the change that has taken place, //

Poliziano raised the popular Rispetti and Strarabotti to a new
dignit}^^ and with so much taste and elegance^ ** that for the first
time perhaps in poetry/' says Carducci, '* he gave an Attic stamp
to Florentine idioms and artistic finish to famihar expressions,^' '
The ballad^ too, which already in the Trecento had received a
literary form, and thus embellished retained popularity, serving
as a model for the many sacred Laudi composed during the
fifteenth century, and even for the songs of Lorenzo dei Medici
who endowed them with a new literary garb, was now raised by
Poliziano almost to the dignity of the Ode, without losing any of
its primitive simplicity.^ Although in these lyrics we meet with
sensual allusions which remind us of Lorenzo's companion, the
poirt never forsakes decency in the same fashion as his Maecenas.

In his *' Orfeo '' he also made an attempt at drama \ but his
dialogue is sometimes lyric* without ever rising to a true display

the passions. Dramatic poetry is born late in the life of a
nation, that is, only when the national spirit and national tongue
have reached a healthy and vigorous maturity, Italy had barely

k

■ Sec the Prefazione to Poliiiano's jjoems, p, cxvii. D'Anconais of opinion that
he ** RisiTctti ** still sung among the hiUsin Tuscany are, at least in their general
Icharact eristics, the same thai the Meilician school took from the people, in order
)give them back dressed in a more Hterar)' shape. And thus by force of custom
be people have gone on singing them to thb day. — ** Ri vista Con tern poranea "
uoted above.

Carducci I " Prefazionci" &c*, p. cxxv.

s«o

INTRO D UCTION.

touched this point when she feU a prey to foreign inv-aders, who
de9tro>*ed her institutions and pre\*ented her from findings in this
essentially national kind of poctry% a way of escape from the
Latin tTave5t>\ whose fetters she had so often before shaken off.

And Poliziano, in spite of a fineness of taste^ that was almost
Greek, could never have had the power to attain to real dra*
matic ele\^tion, or create the theatre required by us. We
have only to remember his career as a courtier, to understand
why his genius could take no lofty flights. Often our indig-
nation is excited by seeing the author of so many beautiful
verses condescending to write others full of the most fawning
adulation. This it is impossible to pardon him^ even when we
remember the depth and sincerity of his affection for his patron.
He was standing by Lorenzo's side when the conspiracy of the
Pazzi broke out ; he was the first to close the door of the sacristy
as soon as his master was safely within it ; on Lorenzo's return
from his perilous Neapolitan journey, he welcomed him with very
beautiful Latin verses, such as might be addressed by a lover to
his mistress ; and on Lorenzo's death he lamented him in words
of intense grief, and quickly followed him to the tomb. But all
this cannot prevent us from feeling deep and contemptuous com-
passion for a poet who humiliates himself to his patron, even to
the extent of begging for his old clothes, and it is easy to under-
stand that the summit of art can never be reached in that way.

The literature of the Trecento may be considered as exclusively
Tuscan ; that of the Renaissance quickly became national. In
fact, as we have seen, men of learning flourished in all parts of the
Peninsula, and now writers in the vulgar tongue began to spring
up contemporaneously and with the same characteristics in diflTe-
rent provinces. Thus from Poliziano and Florence, we may
travel towards the south where we shall find Giovanni Giovuano
Pontano. Born at Cerreto in Umbria (1426), he soon made his
way to Naples, and became the minister and ambassador of Ferdi-
nand of Aragon ; he accompanied him e\^er}-where ; advised him
in the weightiest affairs of the State, in which he always took a
prominent part, and was tutor to Alfonso IL Little by little he
became a thorough Neapolitan, and wt; may say that he was the
best representative of the state of culture of that Court and of that
time. A man of business, an acute diplomatist, and one of the
most celebrated of the learned men, he instituted the Acadcmia
Pbntaiiiana hy the reorganization of that already founded hy

\

RE VIFAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE,

i6i

Lntonio Panormita under the name of the fhrticus Autoniana.

He wrote — always in Latin— an infinite number of philosophical^

^^cientiiic, astrological, political, and historical works. But in all

^Hiese works the approaching ducline of learntng was already fore-

^Bfcadowed. His tractates ** Delia Fortezza/' ** Delia Liberalita/^

^V' Delia Beneficenza/' &c.» as also that *" Del Principe/* are mere

l^ttissertations without any originality, diffuse collections of moral

sentences. His various astrological works include all the prejudices

of the time^ without any attempt to build them upon any pretended

philosophical theory, after the manner of Ficino. The sun, the

heart of heaven and of the universe, is the generative principle of

all things. The constellation of Cancer, which influences cold

bodies, is called the house of the moon, because when that planet»

by nature damp and cold, is in this constellation, it acquires

greater efficacy. Even his history of the Guerra A\ipfJttana

between Giovanni d^Anjou and Ferdinand of Aragon, although

of some ititerest as the work of a contemporary writer, is full

of useless digressions, wanders into astrological consid t ration s,

and lacks all critical power.' To really know Pontano and under*

stand the value of his writings, a purely literary value, we must

^read his ** Dialoghi " and Latin poems, especially those that are

^■jrricaL

^^ These are marked by the same qualities found in Poliziano :
an extremely fine classical taste, and a lucid, graphic style^ as
^■pigorous as that of one using a living language, for in this case
^^Iso, the freshness of the Latin springs from its intermixture with
the language spoken hy the author, which, howeveri is not Floren-
tine but Neapolitan Italian, Hence, notwithstanding Pontano*s
great poetical talent, his works show an undeniable inferiority of
form compared with those of Poltziano ; Tuscan atticism lends to
the Latinity of the latter a Grecian elegance that does not exist to
the samt- extent in that of Pontano. Nevertheless he certainly
succeeds admirably in binding the Latin to modern ideas, and
where it fails him, he Latinizes ItaUan or Neapolitan words, and

^^ » For Pontano 's Life see Tirnboscht» '*S. L, I.," voL vi. p. 950; Professor C.
^^Pl. Tailarigo, ** Giovanni Pontano e i suoi letiipi,*' 2 vols. (Naples, Morano, 1S74).
^^bKLs monograph contains many chosen specimens of Pontano's best Latin poems,
^fkith translations by Professor Ardito, and tbc whole of the Latin dialogue
^(Charon). Setlembrini, in his **StoriA della Letteratura Italiana " (Naples,
1866-72, 3 vols.), speaks of Pontano with a truth and tdoqucnce (vol. i. pp.
Sl-Sj), which incited Professor Tadarigo to the composition of the above-quoted
DBograph, i5<^ also t^hc Basle edition of Ponlano's works.
VOL. L 12

i62 INTRODUCTION.

rushes onwards with the speed of one speaking a language learnt from
the cradle. In his dialogues " Charonte/' " Antonio," " Asino,"
which are all works of imagination in elegant Latin prose, and
intermingled with beautiful poems, there are pictures of Neapoli-
tan manners, popular festivals, rustic love scenes, and a series of
anecdotes so full of verve as to remind the reader of Boccaccio's
finest pages. The fete of the Fhrcello at Naples, the temper of
Italian cities, the corruption of the Roman priesthood, the ridicu*
lous disputes of the pedants, and the fiiry with which they fall
upon those who dare to use some particle or ablative in a manner
opposed to their own, often, fallacious rules, all these things are
given with a descriptive power, a freshness and vt's comi'ca sirffi-
cing to place Pontano among men of true literary genius. He
writes in Latin, it is true, but his spirit and his intellect are
modern, and his works are therefore real gems of Italian literature.
In his AntomuSj we see Neapolitans sitting in the shade and
cutting jokes on passers-by ; Pontano himself alive and speaking ;
his son, who recounts family quarrels ; a poet who, preceded by
a trumpeter, according to the Neapolitan custom of the day, mounts
a hill to recite the description of a battle, and halts from time to
time to take a pull at his wine flask. Then we read the Ode of
Galatea pursued by Polyphemus, which is one of his best
poems : —

** Dulce dum ludit Galatea in unda,
Et movct nudos agilis lacertos,
Dum latus versat, fluitantque nudae

Aequore mammea," &c.

and in all we find an exquisite taste, a spirit that even in old
age was intoxicated with sensual and artistic pleasure, and a pro-
found scepticism that turns everything into ridicule.

In the lyrics, the author's literary genius rises to its highest
pitch, and shows us even better than those of Poliziano the
image of the Renaissance. His women, says Carducci, laughingly
bare all their charms to the sun and to love. " And with his
tranquil sense of voluptuousness and genuine enjoyment of life,
Pontano, though writing in Latin, is the most modern and truest
poet of his age and of his country." ' Assuredly, in reading his
Odes, it is admirable to see the ease and agility of his movements
in Latin attire ; he resembles a swimmer floating down with

« Carducci, " Studi letterarii/* Livorno, 1874, p. 97.

REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE.

163

the current. His Neapolitan Italian seems to infuse new life into
the old idiom, even when it changes it too much : —

** Amabo mea chars. FannieHat
Ocellus Veneris, rlecusque amorisi
Jobc islhaec Ijbi basiein label I a
Succiplena* lenelJa, mollicella,
Amabo, mea viia, suaviumque.
Face istam mi hi gratiam petenti." '

He laughs and jests, sings lullabies, steeps himself in voluptuous
beautVt between the soft arms of the nymphs who, surrounded by
flowers, await him 00 the seashore, in the presence of nature*
This is his world, the world of the Renaissance. All the cities,
\*illas, and islands in the neighbourhood of Naples, the streets,
and the fountains^ personified in fantastic beings, move and dance
around the poet. The nymphs Posilipo, Mergellina, Afragola,
Acura, Panzcocoits studiosa inpint\ and Marianella, who sings in
accompanying Capodimonte,

" ct cognita bucelkds
Ulmia, et intortis tantum laudala torallisj"^

»are all moving and li\^ing beings in his ** Lepidina." ^ Vesuvius,
in the form of an old man, descends the mountain on an ass to
come to the fete, and the women all crowd round him. To one
he gives a thimble, to another a spindle, to a third a jest, and all
push to get nearer to him and his donkey, greeting both with loud
and joyous cries,

" Plebs plaudit, varioque asinum clamore salutaut,
Brasiculisque apioque fenim nucibusque coronant/^

^H The same merits are to be observed in the two books of his
^™^ ** Amori,'* in his ^* Endecasillabi/* in his ** Buccolica," and in his
L dydaschylic poem ** L'Urania/' in which there are admirable
^H descriptions of nature. And we always find a strange mixture of
^^ two languages, one living, the other dead, in which both seem to
acquire fresh life ; and this rich and %'aried medley of classical
imagery, fantastic whimsies, splendid descriptions of scenery, and
modern feeling, all mingled and all fermenting in the fancy of this

* Among the verses reprinted by Talbrigo, op. aV., voL ii. p, 627.

* Taralii are cakes very common in Naples to this day,
3 See Tallarigo, op, cit., voL ii. p. 619 and fob

i64 INTRODUCTION.

man of learning changed into a poet, show us how the new
literature was born of the ancient, and how, in the midst of the
classical world so carefully conjured up, it was possible for the
chivalric poem, apparently so unsuited to the age of learning, to
spring into existence.

At this point we ought perhaps to mention the political letters
of Ferrante d^Aragona, which also bear the signature of his
prime minister Pontano, who certainly had no small part in their
compilation. But, besides the difficulty of precisely determining
what this part was, we shall have occasion to return to the subject
at a more fitting moment. For the present it is enough to say
that these letters are of rare merit, so perspicuous and eloquent,
that they might bear comparison with some of our best prose,
were not their Italian style too often adulterated with Neapolitan
dialect, which, although it may add strength and spontaneity^
naturally detracts from the unity and elegance of the language.

Besides Pontano, there was another Neapolitan writer, who died
in the second half of the fifteenth century, and left a volume of
tales, which are worthy of notice, especially if we remember, that
after Sacchetti, that style of composition was almost entirely for-
saken. A man of the world and destitute of learning, though
living in the company of the learned, Masuccio Salernitano tells
us, that it was his endeavour to imitate " the ancient satirist
Juvenal, and the much esteemed idiom and style of the well-famed
poet Boccaccio." ^ He frequently invokes the immortal Deities,
and the most eloquent god Mercury speaks to him of the deceits
practised by women " upon our great father Jove, the radiant
Apollo, ourselves and other gods." ^ He, like Sacchetti, declares
that he will narrate tales " approved as authentic histories, and
certain modern, and other not very ancient facts." 3 His language
is very artificial, from his imitation of Latin and of the
Decameron ; and a great admixture of the Neapolitan and

* " II Novellino di Masuccio Salernitano, restituito alia sua antica leiione," by
Luigi Settembrini : Naples, Morano, 1874. See the prologue to the third part.
There are fifty tales divided into five parts. Each part begins with a prologue,
and the first of them is addressed to Ippolita d*Aragona, to whom the book is
dedicated. Elach tale has an Exordium, dedicating it to some illustrious
Neapolitan personage ; the tale itself follows, and then comes a conclusion
always entitled " Masuccio," because in it the author sets forth his reflections. The
little we know of Masuccio is to be found in the Discourse, with which Settembrini
has prefaced the volume.

' Prologue to the third part. 3 First prolc^ue.

RE VIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE. 165

emitan dialects, while lending much vivacity to Masuccio^s
lyle, impairs both his Italian and his grammar. His freshness
id graphic power are so considerable, that were his style less
correct^ he would be one of our standard authors. Even as it
, the " Novellino " gives us a faithful representation of the times
id of the Neapolitan Court. With a wide knowledge of men
id things, with an intelligence that appears to be keen and good^
le author knows how to give life to his characters, and can
irrate with the ea:>e and cheerful ingenuity of a true writer of
le Renaissance. His dominant feeling is a profound hatred for
le immorality of the priesthood, whom he scourges pitilessly,
Without, however, showing any hostility to religion. In the
Exordium to the third tale dedicated to FontanOj he lauds his
irtues, while lamenting that they should be contaminated by his
instant intercourse \^th priests, friars, and nuns, ** since with
ch persons only usurers, fornicators, and men of bad life are
n to converse/' All this is not very surprising in a writer
ident at the Aragonese Court, which was in continual warfare
th the papacy, and had taken under its protection Antonio
anormita and Lorenzo Valla. But it is a surprising sign of the
times, to find dedicated to Ippolita, the daughter of Francesco
Sforza, and the youthful bride of Alfonso II. of Aragon^ a book
of tales, many of which are very obscene, and certain of which
bear special dedications to this or that noble lady.

From the Dialogues of Pontano and the Tales of Masuccio, no
great leap is required to pass on to the poems of knight-errantry,
Another species of literature peculiar to the age. Truly these
kid their birth in France, and may appear totally opposed to the
Tiational genius of Italy. Chivalry, in fact, was hardly at all
diffused among us ; feudalism had been opposed and in a great
measure destroyed ; in the Crusades we had only played a^
Dndary part ; Charlemagne, the national hero of France, was ^
&r us merely a foreign prince and a conqueror. Yet these subjects
^ere substantial elements of the poems of chivalry. The religious
cepticism^ that early arose in Italy, was also opposed to the
temper of poems chiefly founded on the wars of the Christians
against the infidels. Neither was the marvellous, which is the
^ery essence of these poems, adapted to the temper of Italians,
vith their constant admiration for classical beauty. Having
passed at one stride from a state of decay to a new form of
ivilization, they had never known the savage and robust youth,

I

%6&

INTRO D UCTION.

in which had been created that world of heroes, with their im-
possible adventures and fantastic, ever-chan^ng natures. Never-
theless, these French poems so rapidly diffused throughout all
feudal Europe, found their way to us also^ and were much more
widely propagated than might have been expected.

Even before the rise of our literature^ and when in the north
of Italy many wrote in Pro ventral or French, we had a series of
knightly poems, compiled by Italians^ in an Italianized French, or
Frenchified Italian. In the South these tale^ were brought to us
by the Normans, and in the centre of the Peninsula were spread
by means of Italian writings and wandering minstrels. But those
knightly heroes, the growth of a mist of fantasy, that was
thoroughly outlandish, fell upon barren soil here, particularly in
Central Italy, and had almost vanished from our literature to take
refuge in mountain cottages and the hovels of the poor, when the
sun of Dante^s verse rose above the horizon. In many of Boc-
caccio's works, in Petrarch *s ** Trionfi,** even in the " Divina
Com^media/* we often meet with reminiscences showing that the
romances of chivalry had been always well known among the
people. Paolo ^w^ Francesca in the '* Inferno " remind each
other how, in happy times, they had read together of the
loves of Launcelot ; and Sacchetti telling of the smith who
spoilt Dante*s verses in reciting them, and the harshness w^ith
w^hich the poet reproved him, adds that the smith would have
done better to keep to the songs of Tristan and Launcelot ; an
evident sign that even in Florence these songs were considered
more adapted to the popular fancy. Then^ when the learned
began to write in Latin, the romances of chivalry seemed to
awake from a temporary trance, and together with the *^ Rispetti/''
** Strambotti," ** Laudi,'' and ** Mysteries,'^ formed part of what^
as we have seen, was the literature of the people. In fact, so
widely and deeply were they diffused, that, to this day^ the
Neapolitan story-teller {cantasiorte) relates the feats of Orlando
and Rinaldo to an enchanted audience, and in the rural districts of
Tuscany the Maggt\ or May plays, performed among the peasantry
in the spring, take their subjects from the same poems. Some of
these Maggi and romantic tales are of recent composition^ but not
a few of them date from the fifteenth century. At that time they
were produced in enormous numbers, and read with the same
avidity as noveb are now-a-days. The Italians neither created
new poems nor exactly reproduced the old, but made compilations

A

REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE.

167

I

in verse or prose, generally the latter, in which they often fused
many into one, thus forming a huge repertory of fantastic tales.
These, the story-tellers, who were generally authors themselves,
went about reading to the people in town and country', and
were everywhere listened to with the most eager attention. The
so-called Chronicle of Turpin, and the cycle of Charlemagne in
general furnish the groundwork of the Italian fables ; but the
c>*cle of King Arthur and the Round Table have also great part
in them* The chief of these compilers, and who wHll suffice to
give us an idea of the rest, lived in the second half of the four-
teenth and beginning of the fifteenth centur}-. This %vas Andrea
dei Mangabottiof Barberino in the Val d' Elsa, who calls Florence
wny cit\\ because he lived and was educated there. Of unrivalled
industr>% he not only wrote the famous ** Reali di Francia " in six
books, but also ** Aspromonte/' in three books, ** Storia di
Kinaldo,*' in seven, ** Spagna,'^ in one, the **Seconda Spagna,*'
in one, the '^Storie Narbonesi,'' in seven, " Aiolfo/* in one very
stout book, '^ Ugone d'Avernia,'* in three^ and, finally, *' Guerino
il Meschino,'* which although a continuation of the events nar-
rated in the 'VAspromonte,*' forms a separate work, the popularity
of which, little inferior to that of the *' Rcali,^* endures to the
present day. All these w^orks are in prose, excepting certain por-
tions of ** Ugone dWvernia/'

The object proposed by the author was the collection and
arrangement of the great multitude of tales forming part of the
C)xle of Charlemagne, And thus in the " Reali^** his principal
work, he compiled the history of the great emperor's race,
without, however, making Either a true history or a genuine
romance of chivalry. He tries to introduce connection and
precision in the midst of a deplorable chaos ; he makes geo-
graphical corrections ; arranges genealogies ; but in so doings
sacriiices ingenuousness and poetic originality. It seems as
though the Italian realism, so much admired in those stories,
which are the most characteristic and national outcome of our
literature, predominates even here, and spoils the romance,
making it. despite certain merits, a hybrid work.

It is, in truth, neither popular nor literary poetry ; but
rather epic matter in course of transformation, seeking a new
shape which it has not yet found. The spoken language is inter-
mingled with classical reminiscences, then familiar to all Italians ;
narrative has a quiet solemnit}^, almost in the style of Livy, and

i68 INTRODUCTION.

the author tries to fuse together ^vithin the limits of an ideal
and well defined machinery, a myriad of tales which had
originally sprouted up with the exuberant and disorderly fertility
of a virgin forest.* These qualities of Mangabotti's writings are
commo% to those of numerous other compilers of prose and verse.

From all that we have said, it is plain that when our men of
letters began once more to write in Italian, and drew nearer to
the people, sated with the pompous rhetoric of poems like the
Sforziade and the Berseide, they found together with the
" Rispetti " and the ** Ballate," many diffuse narratives like the
"Reali di Francia," in verse and in prose. Upon these they
exercised their powers, endeavouring to convert them into true
works of art. They left intact the general machinery of the tale,
the division into cantos, the recapitulations at the beginning of
each, addressed to "friends and good people," by the popular
poet, who was, as it were obliged to make an independent work
of every canto. And these new writers also were accustomed
to read their tales in fragments, not, it is true, in the public
squares, but at Court, at the dinners of the nobility, to cultivated
persons, who, however, desired entertainment, and were weary
of the empty solemnity of the learned men. Frequently the
changes made in rewriting these popular poems, as we may now
call them, were confined to a few touches, the addition of new
episodes, fresh descriptions, sometimes of entire cantos. But the
art of infusing life where none was before, consisted precisely in
these re-touches, which opened the way to new and original
creation.

The personages of these tales and poems began to stand out
from the still fantastic and nebulous background with which they

' Among the works giving precise details of this part of our literary histor>% we
should first quote the memoir read in the Berlin Academy of L. Rankc, *' Zur
Geschichte der iialienischen Poesie," Berlin, 1837. This short composition is one
of those that first opened a new path in the history of the Romance of chivalry ;
although it is no longer on a level with the present state of our knowledge.
More ample and with many new investigations in the history of literature,
particularly that of France, but in some degree also that of Italy, is the work of
Mons. G. Paris, *• Histoire Poelique di Charles Magne," Paris, A. Franck, 1865.
As regards our literature, the most recent and complete work is that of Professor
P. Raina, ** Ricerche intorno ai Reali di Francia," Bologna, Romagnoli, 1872
(in the collection published by the Commission for testi di lingtid). In this book
and in other writings published in the *' Propugnatore," Professor Raina shows a
profound knowledge of his subject, often obtained from fresh sources discovered
by himself. See also Carducci's *'Scritti lettcrarii," Leghorn, 1874.

REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE,

169

had hitherto been confused, and to assume life and consistency ;
the descriptions of nature were fragrant as it were with the
l}reath of spring, and that which still remained of their primitive
form^ helped to enhance the truths and we might say, the youth-
fulness of all that was now presented in a new shape. It was
almost an improvised rebellion against all conventional rhetoric,
all artificial trammels ; the Italian spirit was as a man who
again breathes the fresh air of fields and mountains after long
confinement in an unwholesome atmosphere. To seek for depth
of feeling, logical development of character, or a general and
philosophic design in these poems, would be to expect the im-
probable and impossible. On the contrary, the author of those
days often purposely disarranges the monotonous narration of the
romances which he finds already compiled, mingles and re-orders
at his own caprice the intricate threads of the vast woof, in order
the better to keep alive the curiosity of his readers. The
important point for him is to be the master of his heroes, so that
they may always stand out vividly at the moment when he sum-
mons them on the stage. The ideal he pursues is different from
ours» he has no desire to sound the depths of the human heart ;
his object is to depict the changeful reality of all passing events
and things.

If again and again he dismisses his personages into the obscurity
of the fantastic background he has given to his picture, it is only
to complete our illusion, and make us better appreciate truth and
reality when once more he brings them near to us, presenting
them almost like those baby boys of Correggio, who thrust forth
their heads between flower-laden branches, or like those on the
walls of the Vatican who seem to move amid a lab3rrinth of
graceful arabesques. Thus, although the author is continually
telling us of monsters, fairies, enchantments, and magic philters,
his narrative has so much Hfe^ thai: we seem to be reading a
history of real events. Still, as is very natural, a perpetual smile
plays round the author's lips, for he is himself exhilarated by the
spell of illusion under which he holds his readers, and appears to
laugh at them, the better to dominate and stir their hearts. It
is a great mistake to imagine that any satire or profound
irony exists in these romances. But as the poet himself cannot
believe seriously in his personages, he is content to make his tale
a vehicle for expressing all the various turns of life, all the con-
tradictions existing in his own mind, in an age so full of different

y

170 INTRODUCTION,

and antagonistic elements, content to delight and be delighted
by his own creations. Still it needs an artistic temperament
thoroughly to appreciate the value of these poems, which are
most enjoyable when read in bits, as the story-tellers used to read
them to the people, as Pulci, Boiardo, and Ariosto read them to
an audience of friends and patrons.

The first of these poems, worthy to be called a work of art,
IS the " Morgante Maggiore " of Luigi Pulci (born at Florence
in 143 1). This work is a compound of other older ones. The
first twenty-three cantos reproduce, with more or less fidelity,
one of these poems which the story-tellers used to read to the
people, narrating the adventures of Orlando. The last five tell
the tale of the rout of Roncesvalle instead, and are made up of
two other popular compilations, entitled "La Spagna." An
inter\'al of twenty-five or thirty years passes between one part of
the Morgante and the other ; so that the characters who were
young in the first are old in the second, a circumstance of little
weight with the author.' Nor does he hesitate, specially in the
first part, to follow his model so closely — merely correcting or
modifying some of the stanzas — as to appear a positive plagiarist.^

' See Professor P. Rajna*s two very important works upon this subject : " La
materia del Morgante Maggiore in un ignoto poema cavalleresco del secolo," xv.
(**Propugnatore," iii. year, 5th and 6lh Nos. ; iv. year, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th and
Sth Nos.)

' I quote at hazard a few stanzas of the many given by Rajna (" Propugnatore,"
ii. year, 1st. No., pp. 31-33) :

*' Quando piu fiso la notte dormia
Una brigata s' armo di pagani,
E un di quegli la camera apria,
E poi entraron ne' luoghi lontani,
E un di lor ch'e pien di gagliardia
Al conte Orlando legava le mani
Con buon legami per tanta virtute,
Ch'atar non si pu6 dalle genti argute."

(** Orlando," foglio 92.)

** Quando piu fiso la notte dormia
Una brigata s'armar di pagani,
E un di questi la camera apria :
Corsongli addosso come lupi o cani ;
Orlando a tempo non si risentia,
Che finalmente gli legar le mani ;
E fu menato subito in piigione,
Senza ascoltarlo o dirgli la cagione.**

('* Morgante," xii. 88.)

REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE,

171

Yet it is these slight and simple touches of a master hand, which
change a \iilgar work into a work of art» give life and relief to
the characters, and lead us away from tricks of rhetoric into ihe
presence of nature. Now and then, however, the poet forgets
his original, and then we have, for instance, the 275 stanzas
narrating the episode of M org ante and Margutte^ resplendent
with all the careless scepticism, rich fancy, and pungent irony for
which Pulci * was reno^vned. This poem^ which at every step
breaks the leading thread of the narrative, seems only to acquire
unity from the clear, definite, and graphic precision of its ever-
changing and inexhaustible string of episodes* It is a strange
hurly-burly of incidents : of pathetic^ ridiculous, marvellous and
jovial scencis. The elements constituting the culture of that age^
Paganism and Christianity^, scepticism and superstition, irony and
artistic enthusiasm for the beauties of nature, here co-exist, and
without the need of any effort at agreement seem to harmonize
with one another, exactly because the poet^s sole object is to
reproduce the restless changes of natural events and the realities
of life, Pulci is an uorivalled tale-teller ; his irony is directed, like
that of the novelists^ against priests and friars, occasionally against
religion itself,^ but always in a manner to imply that he intends

*' Tu sei calei die tutie I' altra avanza,
Tu sc' d* o^i belti ricco tesoro ;
Tu sc' colei che mi togli baldainzn,
Ty se' la luce e specchio del mio cuore," tS:c.
("Orlando," foglio 114.)

** Tu sc' colei ch 'ogni altra bella avanza,
Tu se' di nobilta ricco tesoro,
Tu se' colei che mi dai tal baldanza,
Tu se* la luce dello eierno coro,'* &c,
(** Morgante,'* xiv. 47,)
' This episode was afterwards primed separately with the title of *• Morgante
Minorc," whence the addition of ** Maggiore '* tu the title of the entire poem
which the author had simply styled '* II Morgante.''

» The following well-known verses give a gt»od idea of Pulci's pungent, laugk
able and sceptical style :

** RIspCkse allor Margutte : A dirtel tosto,
lo non credo piu al nero che air azzurro,
Ma nel cappone^ o lesso, o \iioglt arrosto,
E credo alcuna volta anche nel burro \
Nella cervogia, e quando io n' ho, nel mosto»
E molto piu neir as pro che il raangurro ;
Ma sopra tut to nel buon vino ho fede,
E credo che sia salvo clii gU crede.

lya INTRODUCTION.

no disrespect. He is familiar with antiquit}\ and his work is im'
pregnated with its spirit, although there is nothing of it in the
writer whom he takes as his model ; nevertheless his muse is
essentially popular :

'* Infino a qui 1' ainto del Parnaso
Xon ho chiesto ne chicggo ....
lo mi staro tra iaggi e tra bifiiici,
Che Don dispregin le muse del PnkL"

So popular in fact is his style, that it frequently lacks finish, and
when weak is rather vulgar than rhetorical. More than all else it
is this quality of spontaneousness that established the success of
the " Morgante," composed at the request of Lucrezia Tomabuoni,
Lorenzo dei Medici*s mother, at whose table it was read aloud,
during the flying hours of festive banquets.

Yet the ever-laughing Pulci was condemned to many days of
sadness by the failure of his brother Luca, in which he also was
involved. Nor was the friendship of Lorenzo, with whom he was
a great favourite, of much use to him, since, although upon terms
of the greatest familiarity, he was never more than a favoured
courtier. His best help lay in the unconquerable gaiety of his
temperament. Obliged to fly far from Florence to escape falling
into the hands of creditors to whom he owed nothing personally,
he complains in his letters to Lorenzo of the unlucky star that
made it his fate to be always the prey of others. " Yet in my
time many rebels, thieves, assassins, I have seen come here, obtain
a hearing, and gain some reprieve from death. To me alone is
all denied, nothing conceded. If they continue to harass me in
this wise, without hearkening to my reasons, I will come there (to
Florence) to be unbaptised in the very font in which, in a cursed
hour, was I unworthily baptised, since it is certain that I was better
fitted for the turban than the cowl." * And he promised that on
reaching Mecca, he would send Lorenzo verses in the Moorish

E credo nella torta e nel tortello,
L* uno e la madre, e I'altro e sil suo figliuolo ;
II vero palemostro h 11 fegatello,
£ possono esser tre, e due, ed un solo,
E diriva dal fegato almen quello.'*

(** Morgante Maggiore," xviii. 115, Il6.)
* Letter iv. in the " Lettere di Luigi Pulci a Lorenzo il Magnifico." Lucca,
Cuioti, 1868. For this fine publication we are indebted to Cavaliere Salvatore
Bongi of the Lucca Archives.

RE VIVAL OF ITALIAN LIT ERA TURE,

I7S

tongue, and many others from hell itself by means of some
familiar spirit,* Then he goes on to say, *^Do not, in the height
of your felicity, allow your friends to be driven and worried like
dogs. Much I fear that when I do not send thee verses, all I write
to thee in prose is unwillingly read, and hastily cast aside.' Lorenzo
was always the same, he patronized all, but had no real affection
for any one, not even for those who like Pulci had been the com-
panions of his childhood, and loved him as a brother. Later^
however^ the author of the Morgante was commissioned by him
to arrange affairs of some gravity at various Italian Courts, and
even in these circumstances his letters always show the bent of
his genius, often appearing hke fragments of his poem turned into
prose.

The 20th of May, 1472, he wrote from Fuligno that he had been
to Rome, ** to visit the daughter of the despot of the Maremma,
that is to say of the Morea. ... I will therefore briefly describe
this mountain of grease that we visited, the like of which I did
not think could have existed in all Germany, much less in Sar-
dinia. We came to a room where this pudding (herh'n^acci'n)^ was
set up in a chair, and she had wherewithal to sit, that I can tell
you. Two Turkish kettledrums for her bosom, a double chin, a
broad, shining face, a pair of hog*s chaps, a throat sunk between
the drums. Two eyes, big enough for four, with so much flesh,
and fat, and grease around, that the Po itself has smaller banks."3
In Pulci*s poems this extremely familiar style becomes much more
elegant, without losing its spontaneity, as is also to be seen by his
sonnets, which correct the too common, often low, manner of the
poor barber Burchiello, in whose shop according to his own
phrase^

** Poetf}' with the razor fights/'

Pulci at that time wrote in emulation of Matteo Franco^ with
whom he exchanged all kinds of pleasantries, obscenities, and in-
solence^ as a simple pastime, turning his sf^nnets into a species of
rhymed dialogue, full of the spontaneous simplicity, which was
now the chief aim of the new literature.-*

One year earlier than Luigi Pulci, Matteo Maria Boiardo was

* Letter Hi. ' Letter iv. 3 Letter xxi,

< " Sonetti*' of Matleo Franco and Luigi Puld published in 1759. Franco hu
much dash and six»ntaneousnc5s ; but Pulci is the better poet and has more

«74 INTRODUCTION.

born, and three cities contested the honour of being his birth-
place. Probably this dispute arose from his being of a Reggio
family, born at Scandiano, educated at Ferrara.^ A learned writer
of Latin eclogues, and translations from the Greek, he was both
of noble birth and noble character ; he lived in the society of
the Este family, but had no liking for Court life, inasmuch as he
wrote :

** Ogni servir di cortigiano

La sera e grato e la mattina h vano.*'

He was first Governor of Modena, and then of Reggio — Emilia ;
he also filled other important offices ; but while honourably fulfil-
ling every duty, his mind turned more willingly to meditation upon
heroes and romances of chivalry than to political and administra-
tive details. It is related of him, that one day as he wandered in
the fields, racking his brains to find a name for one of his heroes,
it suddenly occurred to him to call him Rodomonte, and so great
was his delight, that he ran back to Scandiano as fast as he could,
and ordered all the bells to be set ringing. He had a sincere belief
in chivalry, and hoped to see it revived in Italy. For the framework
of his poem he made use of tales belonging to different cycles. A
fervent admirer of the Round Table, he mingled Arthur^s heroes

.gaiety. Among the former's Sonnets is one giving a good idea of its author,
l)eginning :

** Costor, che fan si gran disj^utazione

Deir anima, ond' ell' entri o ond 'ell 'esca,
O come il nocciol si stia nella pesca,
Hanno stndiato in su n' un gran mellone," &c.
(Sonetto cxlv. p. 145.)
Theviii. Sonnet —

** Ah, ah, ah, ah sa' di quel ch' io rido ; "
The Iv.—

** Don, don, che diavol fia ? A parlamento ; "
The Ixi.—

** Chiarissimo maggior dite su presto,"
and many others are by Franco, and afford good proof how he strove to rival Puld
in the attainment of ease and skill. In the same volume at p. 151 we have
Luigi Pulci's ** Confessione a Maria Vergine." In this the ungrateful sinner con-
fesses his sins, and acknowledges past errors —

" Pero qui le mie colpe scrivo e *ncamo
Con le lacrime miste con T inchiostro ; "
naturally this was no obstacle to his committing still worse sins the following day,
' This is likewise the opinion of Professor Ulisse Poggi in his short ** Elogio di
Matteo Maria Boiardo," published in the Supplement to No. 35 of the ** Italia
Centrale" of Reggio (Emilia), March 23, 187 1.

REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE. 175

with those of Charlemagne, for in his opinion the former monarch
was the grander of the two, since^ unhke Charles, his heart was not
closed to that source of all greatness, the passion of love. In fact
his Orlando is a hero whose virtue finds in love its first origin and
its final reward. Many episodes are from beginning to end of
Boiardo^s own creation^ for he lived and breathed in the world
evolved from his own fancvt ^^ith an ingenuousness which is at
once his chief merit and his chief fault. It renders him more
touching, more sincere ; but naturally the fact of his relating im-
possible adventures in all seriousness, and without any shade of
irony, renders him far less modern than Pulci. The latter brings
out better the individuality of his personages ; while Boiardo is
more successful is describing the general tumult of fantastic events,
in which, however, his heroes are often involved to a degree that
clouds the precision of their outline. Too often is love renewed
or extinguished by enchanted beverages ; victory or death given
|jy enchanted weapons. Pulci seeks psychological truth even amid
le spells of magic ; Boiardo even amidst reality invokes the
fantastic and the supernatural. But to recompense us for this,
there is always something noble and generous in his heroes, and
throughout his poenij that is lacking in other authors. He
praises and sincerely admires virtue, exalting the consolations
w^hich friendship affords to noble minds :

** Potenilo palesor V un V altro il core,
E ogiii (Juiiblo che accada raro o spesso
Poterlo ad altrui dir come a s€ stesso," '

It is true that there is some amount of coarseness and indecent
jesting in the ** Orlando " ; but these things are to be found in the
poem, because we find them in life» And there is always a back-
ground of moral seriousness, which gives singular elevation to
^oiardo's noble diction, especially when compared with that con-
tinual ridicule of all things which predominates in the other writers
of the time. Here we have a world full of variety, of imagination,
of affection, and it is in this world that the poet lives wrapt ia
illusion. But this illusion was destined to be of short duration.

It is in vain that he tells us : —

** E torna il mondo di virlii fiorito ; "
while all things were hastening to ruin. Too soon he himself is

" Boiardo, ** Orlando laamorato/* bcx)k iii. canto vii.

176 INTRODUCTION.

driven to acknowledge it ; and at the end of the second book his
melancholy breaks out : —

" Sentendo Italia di lamenti piena,
Non che ora canti, ma sospiro appena.*'

He again took up his work, and reached the point, in which, by the
arrival of Oriando, the French prevent the Saracens from entering
Paris. Then shortly before his death, which took place on the night
of the December 20, 1494, he beheld the French pass the Alps,
and his pen dropped from his hand for ever, leaving the thread of
his poem interrupted by that celebrated stanza beginning : —

** Mentre ch* io canto, oh Dio redentore !
Vedo la Italia tutta, a fiamma, a foco,
Per questi Galli che con gran furore
Vengon per disertar non so che loco . . ."

Although the merits of the " Orlando Inamorato " are so many
and so great, that Bemi set to work to re-cast it in another shape,
and Ariosto continued it in his "Orlando Furioso;" yet its want of
polish, and the incorrectness of its diction, often degraded into the
Ferrarese dialect, prevented it from becoming really popular, or
acquiring the fame so well deserved by the intellect and character
of its author, notwithstanding his lack of Tuscan atticism. He
too was a classic scholar, but so thoroughly immersed in his fan-
tastic world, that whenever the images and heroes of antiquity
presented themselves to his mind, he always compared them to
those of chivalry, with which he was more familiar.

Ariosto, also a native of Ferrara, was the first who was able to
conquer the obstacle of a non-Tuscan birth, and it was in his
writings that our tongue finally became Italian. Gifted with the
true genius of style and the faculty of the patient labour of the file ;
by means of art he attained to a marvellous spontaneity, and
opened the way for future followers. Much less learned than
Boiardo, and ignorant of Greek, he had nevertheless a far more
lively sense of classic beauty. Contrary to his precedessor*s
custom, he prefers to compare his heroes of chivalry with the
personages of the Pagan world. His knights-errant have the
wisdom of Nestor, the cunning of Ulysses, the courage of Achilles ;
his women are as beautiful as though chiselled by Phidias, they
have the seductions of Venus combined with the wisdom of
Minerva. Ariosto is always returning to his Virgil and his Ovid ;
but as Ranke has observed, he seems to recur to them in order by

J^E VIVAL OF ITALIA iV L ITER A TURE.

^17

force of imagination to lead them back to the primitive Homer.
I And with more resemblance to Pulci than to Boiardo, he gives
[little attention to plot, ensemble or unity of incident ; but rather
' seeks to depict the fugitive moments of changeful reality, and
describe individual passions. The events of his own life and times
are introduced into the poem in a sufficiently transparent fashion^
and they sometimes seem to exist even where they are notj so
great is the poet's graphic power. Therefore, although the
"Orlando Furioso'' continues the history of *' Orlando Inamorato,*^
4t has more literary connection with the ** Morgan te *■ of Pulci^
who^ much as he availed himself of preceding writers^ may be
called the creator of this description of poem. But Ariosto ex-
tend^ beyond the period to which we have hitherto dedicated our
attention, so we can say no more. Nevertheless we may obsen^e
in conclusion, that even from the days of the ** Divine Comedy " and
the ^' Decameron,*' Italian literature had begun to arouse the human
mind from the mists of the Middle Ages, and lead it back towards
reality. Alike in poetry and prose j it had always sought for nature
and mankind. Arrested in its course by the political disorder
and social decay which subverted all things in the middle of the
fourteenth century, it sought the aid of antiquitVi in order to
' continue the same path. And thus after the middle of the
fifteenth century we behold the same realism come still more
clearly to the surface, not only in letters, but in science^in society,
in mankind. It was indeed the impulse to study and know the
world, free from all bonds of authority or prejudice, which created
the new literature, the new science, initiated the experimental
method, spurred men to the most daring voyages, and reanimated,
as with a second life, the whole mind of Italy. And what renders
this marvellous is the fact that it happened during a thorough
upheaval of society, which, in the midst of corruption and decay,
gave birth to the grand elements of modern culture.

At that time all distinctions of caste, of class, nay even of sex,
seemed to have utterly vanished, Maecenas and his profegh^ in
conversing on letters or science, treated one another on terms of
equality, and addressed one another with the familiar thee and
thou ; women studied Latin, Greek and philosophy, sometimes
governed states, and clad in armour, followed Condottieri to the
field. To us it causes an astonishment almost amounting to
disgust and horror to hear indecent talk carried on in the presence,
not only of refined matrons, but of innocent girls ; to hear politics

VOL. L 13

178 INTRODUCTION,

treated as though no such thing as conscience were known. The
man of the Renaissance considered that all that he dared to do
might be freely talked of, discussed and described without the
slightest scruple. And this was a necessity of his observant and
inquiring mind, not always in consequence of his corruption, often,
on the contrary, in consequence of his realism. He appeared to
live in an Olympian calm, always master of himself, always
wearing an ironical smile ; but it was a deceptive calm. He
suffered from the want of harmony and balance between the
emptiness of his heart and the feverish activity of his brain, which
often raved as in an unconscious delirium. The ruins of the
mediaeval world that he had destroyed, and those of the
antiquity which he had exhumed, were falling around him on all
sides, before he could discover the generative principle of a new
world, or could convert into genuine organic material all the
remains of the past.

Whether it be that the Italians, after having created the grand
entities of Pagan Rome and Catholic Rome, had lost all capacity
for forming a new order of society, founded solely on the free
modern individualism, for which they had not only opened the
way, but which they had even initiated by their labours ; whether
it be that foreign invasions had arrested their progress on this
road, certain it is that they often appear as if bewildered and un-
certain of themselves. While daringly denying God, they believe
in fate and fortune ; * while despising all religion, they study the
occult sciences with ardour. Almost every republic, evef}^ prince,
ever^' Condottiere owned an astrologer, without whose counsel no
treaty was signed, no war commenced. Cristoforo Landino and
Battista Mantovano drew the horoscopes of religions ; Guicciar-
dini and Machiavelli believed in spirits of the air ; Lodovico il
Moro, notwithstanding his unbounded belief in his own sagacity,
took no step without previous consultation with his astrologer.
Reason, in trying to explain all things, found itself confronted by
its own impotence.

The feeling for the beautiful seemed to be the only and surest
guide of human life which sought to identify itself with art. In

* This faith in fortune is sometimes shown in a singular manner. In the books
of the ** Provvisioni " of the Florentine Republic, there is one dated February 20th
(Old Style) beginning with the usual formula : In Dei nomine : Amen^ and within
the large capital I are written the following words : Forttina in omni re dominate
Florentine Archives, "Consigli Maggiori, Provvisioni,'* Register 190, sheet I22t.

REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE. 179

Castiglione's " Cortegiano " we are shown to how high a p<Mnt of
refinement and culture the gentleman of the sixteenth century
could attain ; but we are also shown the weak foundation of his
moral conscience. Virtue, if not the natural result of a happy
temperament, is only to be prized because it is in itself pleasant,
gracious and elegant, to use the phrase of Pandolfini. Great
indeed must have been the intellectual and even the moral
qualities of Italians, if in so tremendous a confusion they not only
escaped total ruin, but gave a powerful impulse to art, science and
the social conditions of life. Besides, this was a period of transi-
tion and restless mutability, of which it is hard to form an accurate
judgment, unless we consider it as a consequence of the past, and
a necessary preparation for the future. Suddenly foreign inva-
sions strangled our whole political life, and thus the Italian
Renaissance, with all its uncertainties, all its contradictions, is,
as it were, instantaneously turned into stone before our eyes. And
possibly this is exactly the reason of its eminent instructiveness.
In it we see the anatomy of the past bared before us, we behold
the origin of modern society, and even discover the earliest germs
of many of our national defects.

IV.

POLITICAL CONDITION OF ITALY AT THE END OF THE FtPTEENTH

CENTL^RY,

I, The Election of Pope Alexander VI.

HE nearer the fifteenth century approached to
its end, the more inevitable became the cata*
:?trnphe already foreseen for many years.
When Galeazzo Maria Visconti was assas-
sinated at Milan {1476)^ his son, Giovan
Galeazzo, was only eight years of age, and
his mother, Bona di Savoia, therefore assumed
the regency. But the brothers of her deceased husband conspired
against her^ and finally Lodovico il Moro, Duke of Bari| the most
able and ambitious one among them^ took possession of the
government. His first act was to separate the Duchess from her
faithful counsellor, Cicco Simonetta, who was put to death ; ' he
then separated her froni her child, at that time only twelve years
of age, and persuaded the latter to sign a deed, choosing himself,
the U5urper»for his guardian (1480). The Duchess left the Court,
and Lodovico remained de facio lord of Milan, but, having no
legal right to his position, was continually environed by a thou-
sand dangers. In 1485 he had a narrow escape from a conspiracy.
In 1489 Giovan Galeazzo, then twenty-one years old, married

biiti:

He was then seventy years of age, and the following verses were inscribed to-

** Dum fitluii scmire volo ixitriamque Ducemque,
Muhorum inddiis proditus interji.
I He scd imincnsa cclehrari laudc tncretur
Qui mavuU vita quam caniisse fide.'*

THE ELECTION OF POPE ALEXANDER VL i8i

Isabella of Aragon^ daughter of AlfonsOi Duke of Calabria^ and
thus, partly in consequence of his manhood, partly from the im-
patience of his wife, who sought and hoped for the aid of her
grandfather in Naples, the state of affairs became dangerous.

In 1491 Lodovicojl Moro married Beatrice d*Este, and feminine
impatience and jealousies still further embittered men's minds,
and fostered discontent. Tormented by continual fears, the rest-
less spirit of the man, who was ever ready to turn all Italy upside
down, rather than renounce his ill -acquired power, was always
brooding over new schemes. At present his favourite design was
that of calling tbe French to aid him against the Neapolitan king,
since, by this means, he hoped to stir up a general war, in the
midst of which his subtlety, in which he had unlimited trust,
would enable him to arrange his own concerns at the expense of
both friends and enemies. It was very doubtful whether he
would be successful in this ; but it was easy enough to bring about
a general war, and a foreign invasion. In fact, it was only the
great sagacity and tenaciousness of Lorenzo dei Medici that could
preserve the general equilibrium and prevent the sudden outbreak
of the catastrophe. For these reasons the year 1492 was fatal for
Italy. Lorenzo died on the 8th of April, and was succeeded by
his son Piero, a man of vain^ presumptuous^ frivolous character^
who passed his time playing at football and the game of pal lone,
and wa5 totally incapable of governing Tuscany, much less of
exercising any influence over Italy, Nor did this misfortune come
alone, for on the 25th of July, Innocent VII L died, and was sue*
ceeded by the worst Pontiff who ever filled the chair of St. Peter —
a man whose crimes were sufficient to convulse any human society.

No sooner did the Conclave meet on the 6th of August than
one might have imagiotd it assembled for a game of speculation
rather than for the election of a Pope, so plain was the corruption
exercised on the voters. From all parts of Europe money poured
into the hands of Roman bankers, in favour of this man or that
of the three candidates engaged in the race. France supported
Giuliano della Rovere, Lodovico il Moro his brother Ascanio, and
these two seemed to have the best chances of success. But
Roderigo Borgia, by means of his great wealth and lavish
promises, was enabled to add to the votes he had already v/on^
all those promised to Ascanio, as soon as the chances began to
turn against the latter ; and in this way he gained hib election.
On the night of the loth of August he exclaimed in a frenzy of

i8a INTRODUCTION.

joy : — " I am Pope, Pontiff, Vicar of Christ ! " and Cardinal
Giovanni dei Medici whispered in the ear of his neighbour^
Cardinal Cibo : — " We are in the jaws of the wolf, and he will
devour us if we do not escape in time." The day after the
election, all Rome repeated that four mules laden with gold had
been seen carr3dng to the house of Ascanio Sforza the price of his
vote. At all events it is certain that on the very day of his
consecration (26th of August), under the name of Alexander VI.,
the new Pope nominated Sforza Vice-Chancellor of the Church —
a very lucrative office — and also gave him his own palace, now
the Sforza Cesarini, with all that it contained. Estates, offices,
and generous incomes were lavished upon the other Cardinals •
since, with five exceptions, every vote in the Conclave had been
obtained by purchase.

Alexander VI. is so prominent a figure in Italian history, the
name of Borgia arouses so much horror, recalls so many tragedies,
and is so often involved with the main subject of these volumes,
that it is necessary to speak both of the Pope and of his children.
At this period the offspring of a Pope were no longer styled his
nephews. Roderigo Borgia, born the ist of January, 1431, at
Xativa near Valencia, was the nephew of Calixtus III. who had
raised him to the rank of bishop, cardinal and Vice-Chancellor of
the Church, with an allowance of 8,000 florins per annum. He
had studied law at Bologna, was well-practised in affairs, and
although not always able to keep his passions under control, and
apt to let people see what he thought, could become, on emer-
gencies, a perfect dissembler. He was neither a man of much
energy, nor of determined will ; both by nature and habit he
was doubled-faced and double-minded, and the ambassadors of
the Italian States frequently allude to him as " of a mean nature,"
" di natura vtley ^

The firmness and energy wanting to his character were, how-
ever, often replaced by the constancy of his evil passions, by
which he was almost blinded. Always smiling and tranquil,
with an air of ingenuous expansiveness, he liked to lead a merry

* Guidantonio Vespucci and Piero Capponi wrote from Lyons the 6th of June,
1494, to Piero dei Medici who had sent them on an embassy to France : ** Our
Lord, His Holiness, who has a vile nature and is conscius criminis stti" &c.,
Desjardins, ** Negociations diplomatiques de la France avec la Toscane," vol. i.
p. 399. Fcrrante d'Aragona, in a letter of the 17th January, 1494, which will be
quoted farther on, speaks of the Pope as a man of " acute and timid nature.**

THE ELECTION OF FOFE ALEXANDER VL 183

life, was temperate, even frugal at table, and perhaps for that
reason, remained very fresh and robust even in his old age.
Extremely covetous of gold, he sought to obtain it by every
means, and spent it with lavish profusion. His ruling passion
was lust for women ; he ardently loved the children he had by
them, and neglected no means for augmenting their wealth and
position. And this was the chief cause of his crimes, all of
which he committed with a quiet conscience, without scruple,
without remorse, almost indeed boasting of them, and never
for an hour losing his equanimity or the power of enjoying life.
He was, though very young, already a cardinal, living at Sienna,
when Pius II. thought it necessary to send him a very severe
letter, reproving him for passing his nights in festivity and
dancing with ladies as though he were a layman or worse. But
this had no effect, for he neither could nor would alter his way
of life.'

Among the Cardinal's many passions, one of the most lasting
was his love for a certain Giovanna or Vannozza dei Cattani (cic
Catanets)^ who, born in 1442, became his mistress in 1470, and
bore him many children. To cover this scandal, Borgia gave
her several husbands, and to the husbands gave offices and coin.
The last of those was a learned man. Carlo Canale, of Mantua,
to whom Poliziano dedicated his " Orfeo.'^ ^ Yet Borgia made
no mystery of the parentage of these children, and openly ack-
nowledged them as his own. There is no doubt that Giovanni,
afterwards Duke of Gandia (born 1474) ; Cesare, afterwards Duke
of Valentino (born 1476) ; Lucrezia (born 1480) ; Goffredo or
Giuffre (born 148 1 or %2) 3 were all his children by this Vannozza.

^ All this portion of Alexander's life is minutely related by F. Gregorovius and
by A. di Reumont in their Histories of Rome. Gregorovius is specially dis-
tinguished for his researches legarding the Borgias.

^ Gregorovius, ** Lucrezia Borgia nach Urkunden und Correspondenzen ihrer
eigenen Zeit": Stuttgart, Cotta, 1S74, vol. i. pp. 21, 22. This work of the
illustrious author contains many important documents. It has been translated
into Italian by Sig. R. Mariano, and has gone through three editions in Germany.

^ The latest and most precise notices on the geneaiogy of the Borgias are to be
found in the "Lucrezia Borgia" of F. Gregorovius. But the reader may also
consult the two above-mentioned Histories of Rome, the **Saggio di Albero
genealogico c di memorie suUa famiglia Borgia" of L. N. Cittadella : Turin,
1872 ; the " Rassegna bibliogratica " upon this work of Cittadella's (not free from
errors), published by Baron A. di Reumont in the ** Archivio Storico," series iii.
vol. xvii. 2nd No. of 1873, p. 318 and fol. ; and "La Genealogia dei Borgia,

i84 INTRODUCTION.

Besides these he had also three elder children, Girolamo, Isabella,
and Pier Luigi, of whom but little is known, and all that can
be said is that very probably the last of these was also by
Vannozza. However that may be, after the birth of Giuffre,
namely shortly before Borgia's elevation to the Papacy, his
passion for Vannozza, who was now over forty years of age,
sensibly slackened, although he showed her consideration as the
mother of his children, upon whom he heaped enormous sums
of money and every kind of benefit. Thus Vannozza remained
in the background, and had no share in the tragic events so
soon to take place. Borgia had entrusted his favourite daughter
Lucrezia to the care of a relation, Adriana De Mila,' who was
also the closest confidant of his scandalous intrigues. The widow
of Lodovico Orsini since 1489, she had about the same time
married her son, Orsino Orsini, to the famous Giulia Farnese,
who, fair as Lucrezia, was by reason of her great beauty known
as the beautiful Giulia. This young lady was barely fifteen
years old when she had already attracted the admiration of the
Cardinal, who became her declared lover, on his desertion of
Vannozza. Even in this intrigue he was assisted by Adriana.

Such was the state of things when Borgia became Pope. His
consecration was celebrated with unusual festivities on the 26th of
August, and the Eternal City overflowed with flowers, draperies
and triumphal arches, allegorical and mythological statues, and
inscriptions, one of which ran as follows :

** Caesare magna fuil, nunc Roma est maxima, Sextus
Regnal Alexander, ille vir, iste Deus." ^

This election aroused no alarm in any one excepting those
who knew Borgia well, like Cardinal Medici and Ferrante
d'Aragona, a keen-witted prince, who remembered the ingratitude
of Calixtus III. towards the house of Aragon ; 3 the rest of the

Nota," by Reumont lo his own article, 3rcl No. p. 509. Mr. Yriartc has thrown
some fresh light on the subject in his Iwok, *' Cesar Borgia, sa vie, sa captivite, sa
mort," vol. ii. (Paris, Rothschild, 1889).

* His second cousin.

' Gregorovius, *' Lucrezia Borgia," vol. i. pp. 22, 23, 36, y].

3 Guicciardini, who was a bitter enemy of the Borgias, tells us in his '* Storia
d* Italia,'* that Ferrante's alarm at this election, caused him to shed tears, in him
a most unusual demonstration. Gregorovius, on the contrary, asserts that the
official letters of congratulation prove that none of the Italian states was at first

THE ELECTION OF POPE ALEXANDER VL 1S5

T¥orld was disposed to hope rather than fear. The scandalous
life of the new Pope was not unknown ; but what prelates were
then without mistresses and children ? At 6rst all went
smo^zrlhly ; salaries were regularly paid, administration was carried
on in an orderly fashion, necessities of life diminished in price ;
even justice was administered with a rigour of which there was
the greatest need, for in the short interval between the fatal
illness of Innocent VII I, , and the coronation of Alexander VL,
two hundred and twenty murders had taken place.

Very soon, however, the tiger began to unsheath his claws.
The Pope^s passion for aggrandizing his relations, especially his
children, some of whom he loved to distraction, grew to a blind
frenzy^ capable of leading him to every excess. At the first
consistory held by him (ist September), his nephew Giovanni
Borgia, bishop of Monreale, was made Cardinal of Santa Susanna.
His favourite son Caesar, a youth of sixteen , who was studying
at Pisa, and had already appeared in Rome, was on the same
day consecrated Archbishop of Valencia. As for Giovanni, Duke
of Gandia, and Giuffre, the youngest of all, the Pope had con-
ceived vast schemes for their benefit in the kingdom of Naples,
and wished to bestow upon the former the fiefs of Cervetri and
Anguillara. But this brought about serious complications which
greatly exasperated Alexander VL

No sooner had Innocent VIIL breathed his last, than his son
Franceschetto Cibo, conscious of his altered position, had fled to
Florence to seek the protection of his brother-in-law Piero dei
Medici, and had sold for the sura of 40,000 ducats these same
fiefs of Cervetri and Anguillara to Gentil Virginio Orsini, head
of that family, who, arrogant as he was powerful, had once
threatened to throw Innocent VIIL into the Tiber. It ^vas
asserted at the time that Ferrante d* Aragona had advanced the
money for the purchase. Hence the fierce and inextinguishable
hatred of the Pope towards Ferrante, and even more towards

<iisplcased with the election, lint perhaps in this, as in many ^Hhcr cases, there
ia some truth in either theor)',and Rcumuni is of the same opinion \vidt his article
on the " Cod ice Aragonese/* in the '*Archivio Stodco," 3rd series, vol. xiv.
pp. 375-421)* It is undoubted that the king of Naples opposed the election of
Alexander VI. In the November of 92, the Florentine Ambassador, Piero
Alamanntt wrote to Piero dei Medici from Naples, that the Pope was aware how
much the king had tried to prevent his election ; *' and the Pope being the man
he is, the king docs not persuade himself that this will be easily forgotten by
Jltm/^ Vidt De^jardins, ** Negociations," vol. i.

i86 INTRODUCTION.

Orsini. In the midst of these disorders, Lodovico the Moor^
the better to distinguish his friends from his enemies, proposed
that his ambassadors should go to congratulate the new Pontiff,
together with those of Naples, Florence, and Venice. The
proposal was not accepted, since Piero dei Medici, in order to
enjoy the honour of sending an embassy in his own name,
induced Ferrante to invent some pretext for refusal. There-
upon Lodovico, believing himself isolated in Italy, took the
desperate resolution of appealing to the French.

While the already gloomy horizon was becoming darker and
darker, the Holy Father took no decided part, but wavered
between this side and that, waiting to see which would be most
advantageous to himself and his children. And meanwhile,
old as he was, he profited by the interval to plunge into dissipa-
tion. The Vannozza was kept away from the Vatican, and he
abandoned himself more and more to his intrigue, first begun in
149 1, \vith Giulia Bella, who was then seventeen years old. His
daughter Lucrezia, some four years younger, continued to live
with Adriana, and received her first education in this atmosphere
of corruption. It may easily be imagined, that it was impossible
for her to have the culture attributed to her by some writers on
the strength of her fluency in many languages.' It is true that
besides Italian, French, and Spanish, which latter Avas the family
language of the Borgia, she also understood Latin and had
some superficial knowledge of Greek, probably learnt from the

' In describing the character of Lucrezia Borgia, many writers have l>een led
away by ilhisions, and often for very futile reasons. They have drawn singular
conclusions from the expressions used by contemporar}' historians, such as
" Lucrezia was wise and learned," &c. But these same expressions are used
regarding Ciiulia Bella and even Valentino. It was a phrase in general use,
especially with reference to those who had good manners and managed matters
so as to avoid much open scandal. Burckhardt, in relating in his diarj*, one of
Valentino's orgies, the notorious courtezans' supper, l^egins thus: "In serofecerunt
coenam cum Duce Valentinense in camera sua, in Palatio Apostolico, cjuincjuaginia
meretrices honestac corlesana: nuncupate," &c. Less unreasonably, Lucrezia
Borgia's general conduct at Ferrara, and the praises showered upon her by Ariosto
and others, have been alleged in her defence. We cannot go into the matter
here, but will content ourselves with remarking, that even in the biography by
F. Gregorovius, there are certain particulars touching her life at Ferrara, much
resembling other particulars of her Roman life. Certainly they are few, but
Lucrezia had now to do with a husband who bade her remember the fate of
Parisina ; nor had she any longer the protection of her father. As to Ariosto's
praises, he was accustomed to lavish them on many who were undeserving of
them.

THE ELECTION OF POPE ALEXANDER VL iSf

Greek exiles who frequented the Vatican. But among those of
her letters which have been preserved, very few are of any
importance, and these give no evidence of her boasted culture.
As to the mystery of her character, it is better to wait and judge
it from known facts. So far the air she breathed was as poisonous
as the blood that ran in her veins.

In 149 1, when only eleven years old, she was officially betrothed
to a Spaniard, and soon after, that contract being dissolved, was
engaged at the same time to two other Spaniards, to one of whom,
Don Gasparo, Count of Aversa, she was regularly married. But
when Alexander ascended the throne of St. Peter, the Pope's
daughter could not be satisfied with a similar alliance, the
husband was bought off, the bond dissolved, and on the 2nd
of February, 1493, Lucrezia Borgia, z//r^ tncorrupta cetatis jam
nuhilis existenSy was married to Giovanni Sforza, Lord of Pesaro.^
The wedding was celebrated in the Vatican ; the bride, who had
a dowry of 31,000 ducats, received many rich gifts ; there was a
splendid festival, to which one hundred and fifty ladies were
invited, and the Pope gave a supper to the bridal couple, at which
Ascanio Sforza, many other Cardinals, and a few ladies were pre-
sent. The ambassador of Ferrara tells us that among them,
" Madonna Giulia Farnese dc qua est tantus scrmo^^ . . . and
Madonna Adriana Ursina, who is the mother-in-law of the said
Madonna Giulia," were the most prominent. They passed the
whole night in dancing, acting plays with songs and instrumental
music, and all received rich presents. The Pope, concludes the
ambassador, took part in everything, and it would take too long
to describe all that passed.'' Totam noctcm consnmpsimus^ iudicet
ntodo Exc, Dominatto Vestra st bene male^

The Duke of Gandia was preparing to go to Spain to contract
a wealthy marriage. The Pope's other son, Caesar, who, young
as he was, held a bishopric with a yearly revenue of 16,000 ducats,
was nevertheless very impatient of ecclesiastical life ; he went out

' Natural son of Costanzo, who was the son of Alexander, brother of Francesco
Sforza.

' Infessura, who also* gives a description of this marriage, speaks of Giulia
openly as the Pope's mistress, ejus concubitia, and adds that he will not repeat
all that was related of that supper, ** because it was either not true, or if true,
incredible."

3 This letter, dated 13th of June, 1493, addressed to the Duke of Ferrara by his
ambassador, Giov. Andrea Boccaccio, ep mutineitsis^ is to be found in the
•* Lucrezia Borgia *' of Gregorovius, Document x.

i88 INTRODUCTION.

shooting in the dress of a layman, was violent and unbridled in
his passions, and exercised an extraordinary ascendency over his
father's mind. As to Giuffre, new marriage schemes were always
being formed for him.' Meanwhile Rome swarmed with assassins,
priests, Spaniards, and light women ; crimes of all kinds abounded.
Each day witnessed the arrival of Mussulmans and Jews driven
from Spain, and who found here an easy welcome, since the Pope,
by the imposition of heavy taxes, made them pay freely for his
Christian tolerance. He himself appeared at the chase and the
promenade surrounded by armed men, with Djem on one side,
and the Duke of Gandia on the other, both clad in Turkish cos-
tume. Sometimes he was even seen among his women in
Spanish dress, with high boots, a dagger, and an elegant velvet
cap.'

The Popes of the Renaissance had long led a worldly life, and
given themselves up to vice ; but Borgia was the only one to cast
aside all show of decency and display his vices with open cynicism.
Neither before nor after was religion ever so publicly profaned
by derisive mirth and the most shameless debauchery.

l/ 2, The Arrival of Charles VIII. in Italy.

Charles VIIL, educated in the study of romance, of chivalry,
and histories of the Crusades, his head crammed with fantastic
schemes, and without any steadiness of character, was entirely
under the influence of two ambitious men, who were always at his
side. The first of these, Etienne dei Vesc, had been raised from
the position of gentleman-in-waiting to that of Chamberlain and
Seneschal of Beaucaire, and thus enriched, was ever greedy for
fresh gains ; the other, Guillaume Bricjonnet, a rich gentleman of
Touraine, having lost his wife, had been nominated Bishop of St.
Malo in 1493 ; he aspired to a cardinaPs hat, and meanwhile con-
trolled the chief affairs of the State. By means of promises and
gold, Lodovico il Moro had gained over both these men. After
the marriage of Lucrezia Borgia to the Lord of Pcsaro, one of the
Sforza family, the Duke knew that his power in Rome was
increased by the presence there of his brother. Cardinal Ascanio.
He was now treating simultaneously with all the Italian poten-

' Gregorovius, ** Geschichte,'* voL viii. p. 327, second edition.
' Despatch of Giacomo Trotti, Milan, 21st of December, 1494, quoted by Grc-
.^orovius in his ** Lucrezia Borgia," vol. i. p. 83.

THE ARRIVAL OF CHARLES VI2L IN ITALY. 18^

Itates, for his secret intention was — after having called the French
1 into Italy — ^to form a league for their expulsion, hoping by that
means to become the sole arbiter of the destinies of alL The
Itah'an exiles, and in particular the Neapolitans, seconded him in
this design^ U-sing all their efforts to induce King Charles to set
out ; but the chief statesmen and most reputed military leaders in
France highly disapproved of the enterprise* No one was sure of
what the next day might bring forth, and all meu's minds were
stirred by strange fears.

During this stage of affairs, the ambassadors of all the Italian
States were travelling about the Peninsula and the whole of
Europe. So great an activity had never yet been seen in the
world : all Italy's Hterary labour was suspended to make way for
diplomatic work, and the infinite number of despatches penned at
that time have become a literary and historical monument of
capital importance, which brings clearly before us the true state
of things in those fatal years. Now, as ever, the Venetian ambas-
sadors took the lead for practical good sense and political prudence \
the Florentine for strength of psychological analysis, study of
character and the passions, power of description, incomparable
elegance and ease of style. These same gifts were to be found v ^
more or less in all, and this was the moment that gave birth to
the new political education of the Italian people, and created the
modern science of statesmanship.

Since the year 1492 the Venetian ambassador, Zaccaria Con-
tarini, had supplied his government with very minute reports of
the commercial, political, and administrative condition of France.
In his opinion it was impossible that the country should ever
decide upon an expedition to Italy, encompassed as it was by
dangers and enemies, and with a monarch who, according to him,
was fit for little either mental or bodily.* But in that same year
the king pacified England by gold, Spain by the surrender of
Roussillon and other lands on the P}Tenean frontier, and
Maximilian by a treaty guaranteeing other important cessions."
Lodovico il Moro bound himself to giv^* arms and money, and free

' Altj<?ri, ** Relazioni degU Ambasciatori Veneti." Scries L vol. iv. p. 16 and
fol.

' C de Cherrier, " Hisioire de Charles VII I. roi de France." ^ vols*, Paris,
Didier. 1868, vol. i, p. 235. This vahmblc work must be read with caution,
since it is not free froni\ mistakes ; and the author has not availed himself of all
the materials within hb reach, cither has he always consulted the best authorities.

I90 INTRODUCTION.

passage to the Italian army. Also, at the same time he continued
his secret negotiations with several Italian States, and promised
the hand of his daughter Bianca and a rich dowry to Maximilian,
in exchange for the investiture of Milan.' Nevertheless matters
had not yet reached a definite conclusion. The Florentine ambas-
sador wrote from Naples : ** The Duke of Bari " (thus to his great
annoyance Lodovico il Moro was always entitled) "has much
'delight in keeping things unsettled, and forms a thousand projects
at present only successful in his own imagination. Therefore it is
necessary to be upon our guard. '^ ^

Casa, the Florentine orator, at the French Court, in June, 1493,
still considered the enterprise impossible, on account of the general
disorder and the weakness of the king, who allowed himself to be
pulled this side and that, and was so incapable as to be ashamed
to give his own opinion.3 But later, seeing that the king had
decided against the judgment of the most influential men, and
that preparations went on in spite of every opposition, he became
almost doubtful of his own judgment, and wrote : " To understand
things here, it were needful to be a magician or prophet ; to be
prudent does not suffice. This affair may turn out any way." •♦
And Gentile Becchi, another orator who arrived in September,
wrote to Piero dei Medici, " that matters had gone so far that it
was impossible to hope that those bronze-headed Frenchmen
could be turned aside from their purpose.'* 5 "This snake has its
tail in Italy. The Italians are urging things on with all their
might ; Lodovico would like to overthrow Naples only, and
remain winner of the game ; but his rage has led him into the
trap prepared for others.'' ^ " The best plan therefore was to swing
at anchor between Naples and Milan ; let those scratch themselves
who have the itch." ^ " To stop all this it would be necessary to
spend more money than Lodovico ; so now the expedition will be
undertaken, and if the king wins, actum est de omnc Italia^ every-
thing will be topsy-turvy ; if he loses he will revenge himself

* C. de Cherrier, '* Histoire de Charles VIII. roi de France," vol. i. p. 242.

^ Letter from Picro Alamanni to Piero dei Medici, written from Naples the 2nd
of January, 1493. Vide Dcsjardins, '* Negociations diplomatiques de la France
avec la Toscane," vol. i. p. 442.

3 Dcsjardins, same work, vol. i. p. 227.

^ Ibid. vol. i. p. 256 : letter of i8th of September, 1493.

5 Ibid. vol. i. p. 237 : letter of 20th of September, 1493.

* Ibid. vol. i. pp. 330, 331 : letters of 28th and 29th of September, 1493.
7 Ibid. vol. i. p. 350 : letter of 21st of November, 1493.

THE ARRIVAL OF CHARLES VIII. IN ITALY. 191

xipon the Italian merchants in France, especially upon yours." *
Piero dei Medici still hoped to win over Lodovico, and Becchi,
who had known him from the cradle, almost scolded him, writing :
^* Attend to your own affairs, for you have a world of trouble
before you. Do you think that Lodovico does not know the peril
to which he is exposing himself and others ? With your counsels
you will only make him more obstinate.''* New ambassadors
were sent, among them Piero Capponi, who at that time appeared
to be a friend of Piero dei Medici ; and all wrote decidedly that
nothing could be done but prepare for defence.

Meanwhile the Florentine ambassadors at Milan could get very
little information from Lodovico. Agnolo Pandolfini, who was
there in 1492 and 1493, found him employed in weaving plots and
consulting astrologers, in whom he had the profoundest faith. He
said that he wished to bridle the mouth of Ferrante, who was too
fond of novelty. In 1494 the die was cast, but even then the
Ambassador Piero Alamanni could learn nothing from him. " You
always speak to me of this Italy, whose countenance I have never
beheld. No man has ever given thought to my affairs, therefore
I have had to assure them as best I might." 3 And when the
ambassador pointed out to him the danger in which he had placed
himself, he replied that he saw it clearly ; but that the worst
danger was ** to be held a fool." Then, almost laughing at him,
he added : " Speak then ; what would the Florentines suggest ?
Be not enraged, but help me to think." *♦ Nor could anything
more be extracted from him. From Venice the ambassadors
wrote that the Venetians maintained an extreme reserve, and
changed the conversation whenever the French were mentioned.
** They believe that it will best serve their turn to remain at peace
themselves, and let the other Italian powers spend and suffer." s
*'They distrust all the world, and are persuaded that they are rich
enough to hire at any moment as many men at arms as they may
need, and thus always have it in their power to make things go
the way they will." ^

* Desjardins, same work, vol. i. p. 358 : k-tter of 17th of January, 1494. See
albo at pp. 350 and 352 the letters of the 29lh of November and 9th of December,

1493-

' Ibid. vol. i. p. 359 : letter of 22nd and 23rd of January', 1494.
^ letter of 31st of March, 1494. See Appendix, Doc. p. i.

* Desjardins, vol. i. p. 555 : letter of 7th of June, 1494.
5 Ibid. vol. i. p. 504: letter of 12th of August, 1494.

* Ibid. vol. i. p. 514: letter of 20th of September, 1494. These letters are

192 INTRODUCTION.

The King of Naples, meanwhile, was a prey to the utmost
agitation, and with the aid of Pontano, wrote letters that were
sometimes almost prophetic of the evils about to overwhelm
Naples and the whole of Italy. The Pope could not forgive him
for having opposed his election, and for having seconded the sale
of Cervetri and Anguillara to the Orsini. His niece, Isabella, the
wife of Galeazzo Sforza, was kept as a prisoner by Lodovico,.
who was convoilsing all Italy by his dark designs ; his daughter,
Eleonora, wife of Ercole d'Este, and the only person who had any
soothing influence over the Moor, had died in 1493 ; his other
daughter, Beatrice, had been repudiated by the King of Hungary,
and the Pope favoured the dissolution of the marriage.' Mean-
while, all men spoke of the speedy arrival of the French ! At
one moment there was a glimmer of hope when the Pope pro-
posed to marry one of his sons to a natural daughter of the king •
but his Holiness afterwards drew back as though he had only been
mocking him. Ferrante then wrote to his ambassador in Rome,
with bitter complaints of the Pope*s conduct at the moment when
they were about to mingle their blood. "Keep in mind," he

nearly all from Paolo Antonio Soderini to Piero dei Medici. When shortly after-
wards the latter was driven to take refuge in Venice, Soderini, who had already
declared for the new Government, hardly looked at him. Speaking of this, De
Commines, who had changed his flag so many times, says that Soderini *• estoit
des saiges hommes qui fussenl en Italic." Ph. de Commines, " Memoires,'' vol.
xi. p. 359, Duix)nt edition. See also : " Lettres ct Negociations dc Ph. de Com-
mines," by Baron Kervyn de Leltenhove {3 vols.) Brussels, 1867-74. This is a
very valuable work. Piero Capi)oni, who tore the contract in Charles VII I. V
face, and so greatly contributed to the expulsion of the Medici, had lx*en, while in
Paris, the confidant of Piero. Commines, however, is scandalized this time, and
styles him a traitor (" Memoires," vol. xi. p. 340) ; but he had personal motives
for disapproving Capponi. When together with Etienne de Vesc and Bri9onnet
he tried to hatch intrigues in Piero dei Medici's favour, it was Capponi who replied
to him *' comme par mocqtiitie,^^ I^tlenhove, vol. xi. pp. 98, 144. It must, how-
ever, be remembered that when Capponi received from the bishop of St. Malo
proposals adverse to the Medici, he wrote to Piero on the subject saying, *' I am
sure that you have no one who treats your affairs with more zeal than myself."
Desjardins, *' Nt^'gociations," &c., vol. i. p. 393 and fol. It is true that his con-
duct was not ver)' open ; but we cannot rely upon De Commines' judgment of
him, for he was then intriguing on his own account. In his opinion hodovico
had given too little money to the king's ministers : ** Si argent ils devoient
prendre, ils en devoient demander plus." (Commines as quoted by Lettenhove,.
vol. xi. p. 97.)

* Beatrice had married Mathias Corvinus, King of Hungary, on the 25th of
June, 1475. After his death, she espoused Ludovic, King of Hungary, the 23rd
of July, 1493. This marriage being dissolved, she returned to Naples in 1501, and
died in 1508.

THE ARRIVAL OF CHARLES VIJL IN ITALY, 193

^

id in conclusion, ** that w^ are no longer young, nor mean to let
him lead us by the nosej* *

Alexander VI . cared little for all thi§, and contfnued his nego-
tiations with Venice and Milan ; whereupon the king wrote :
** From whom does he wish to defend himself, when no one is
attacking him ? It seems to be our fate that the popes should
leave no one in peace, but try to ruin all Italy. We are now
forced to take arms ; but the Duke of Ban should think of what
may be the consequences of the tumult he is fomenting. He
who arouses this storm will not be able to quell it at his own
pleasure. Let him think well of the past^ and he will see that
whenever internal dissensions have brought foreign powers into
Italy, they have oppressed and tyrannized over the land in a way
that has left its traces to the present day/' ' And shortly after-
wards he wrote to his ambassador in Spain, in the tone of a man
driven to desperation : *^ This Pope plainly intends to overturn all
Italy. In order to gain money, he is about to create at one stroke
thirteen cardinals, from whom he will extract no less than 300,000
ducats* He found all tranquil, and immediately began to make
pints and create tumults/' ** He leads a life that is the abomina-
tion of all men, without respect for the chair which he occupies, nor
care of aught but of exalting his children by hook or by crook,
and this is his sole desire ; and it seems to him a thousand years
before he can go to war, for, from the beginning of his pontificate,
nothing else has he done, save troubling himself and molesting all
men, now in one way, now in another. . . . And Rome is more
full of soldiers than of priests • and when he goes about Rome^
it is with squadrons of men-at-arms before him, with helmets on
their heads and lances by their sides, for all his mind is given to
war, and to our harm, nor does he omit anything that he can
machinate against us, not only stirring up in France the Prince of
Salerno, and some other of our rebels, but in Italy encouraging
every desperate character whom he deems adverse to us r and in
all things he proceeds with fraud and dissimulation, according to
his nature, and to make money, he sells every smallest office and
benefice/' ^

^"Codice Aragonesc," publisheH by Commenilatorc Trinclicra, head director
of the Neapolitan Archives, in 3 vols. Naplcst iS66-'74. The letter we qtiote is
<iated lUh of April, 1493, ami is in vol. xi. pari i. |>. 355,

' Ibid., vol. xi. part i, p. 394 : Lcltex of 34th Apdl, 1493.

^ Ibid.» vol. xi, pari xi, p. 41 and fol, t Letter of "iti jiHv:^ 1493*

VOL» 1. 14

194

INTMOD UCTION.

Yet| in August, Virgiiiio Orsini bound himself to pay to the
Pope, in return for free possession of the disputed estate-^, the sum
of 25,000 ducats, under the guarantee of Ferrante and Piero del
Medici ; ' and on the same day, a contract of marriage was finally
signed between Giuffr^ Borgia, aged twelve, the Pope's son^ and
Dona Sancia, daughter of Alfonso of Aragon. She was repre-
sented by Don Federigo^* her uncle, who, as her proxy, received
the nuptial ring amid the laughter of the guests, and e;specially of
the Pope, who took him to his arms, 3 Ferrante was beside him-
self with joy at this marriage, which was to be kept secret until
Christmas. He was now so full of hope, ihat nn the 5th of
December he proposed an Italian league to the Pope> But
before Christmas, Alexander had already changed his mind, and
had allied himself to Lodovico. *' We and our father," now wrote
the king to his ambassador, ** have always obeyed the popes, yet
there has not been one who has not sought to work us the
greatest ill in his power. And with this pope, albeit he be of our
own country, it has been impossible to have a single day's peace.
Truly we know not why he tries to trouble us in this wise, unless
it be by the influence of the heavens, and to follow the example
of the others, for it seems our fate that all popes should torment
us." '* He seeks to keep us in continual suspense, while wc have

* Piero dci Medici always gave his support lo Ferrante. See the letters written
by him to hi^ ambassador at Naples, in July, 1493. They arc to be found in the
Archives at Florence, cL x, dist. 1, No. 1, tloc. 5,

* I'rince of Altainura* Alfonso^s Lrother, and King Ferranlc's second son.

3 Cfregorovius, ** Geschichte/' &c,, voh vii. p. 332 (and edition). Sec also m
the *' Codice Aragone&e/' the letters of 3rd August, and ^Qlh August, 1493,
pp. 1 98, 200, and 223. But in ihcse letters apparently some of the dates ate
mliprinied. The Horentine ambassador* A Guidotti, in a letter of I7ih Aiignst,
1493, directed to the Eight (Archivio Fiorentino, cl, x. dfst. 2, No. 18. doc. 2\\^
gives miiiule details of the agreement with the Orsini and of the marriage con-
tract j in which was inscribed, how *^ the Pope came into affinity with the ma^t
serene Ring Ferdinand* and how in the stead and name of their excellent Majes-
ties, Don Federigo promiseti to give to wife to the most iUuiitrioui* Don Geflre, Mis
Hiiliness's son^ Madonna Xances, daughter of the Duke uf Calabria. . . . Such
contract being stipulated and consented to by the parties, then ftr verba de
prtiitUi^ Don Geffre contracted matrimony with Madonna Nances in the person
of Don FederigOt her proxy, to whom in iigntim matttmanii^ he gave and his
Excellency received the ring, nor did this act of standing in the place of a woman^
And as a woman receiving the ring, pass withtmt much lai ghter and merriment,
and lastly with great gaiety Don Federig<j was embraced :is a relative by the
Pope, and by all the relations of His Holiness."

** ** Cudice Aragoneijc,'' vol. ii* |>art ii. p* 322 : letter of 5th Deeember, 1493*

THE ARRIVAL OF CHARLES VI IL IN ITALY, 195

not a hair upon us that has ever thought of giving him the least
cause for it." '

The king now saw that the inevitable catastrophe was at hand,
he felt that his strength was failings that death was near, and that
his kingdom would be shattered to pieces. His anguish was ap-
parent in every hne of the letters in which he continually harped
upon the same theme, now with bursts of hot wrath ^ now with
forebodings of humiltation. On the 17th of January, 1494, he
i;*TOte what may be considered his last letter. ** f^odovico counsels
the Pope to keep up appearances with us, so that if the French
should not come, he may still be able to come to an arrangement
with us, although as Lodovico says, we do not desire him for our
chaplain, much less for cur relative. If after all the French come,
then he will be freed frcm all fear of us, or of the Orsini and the
other barons, whose lands he may then bestow upon his children ;
and thus the Pontiffs will in future be able to rule their States,
rod in hand. In this way Lodovico continues to set Italy ablaze,
as he himself allows ; but he adds that the Pope must not think
too much of the ills of ItaH% because to avoid perpetual fcvtr, one
must put Up with tertian ague. And the Pope being both keen and
timid, lets himself be entirely dominated by Ascanio and guided
by Lodovico ; so that in vain we seek to persuade him to enjoy
his papac)^ in peace, without mixing himself up in party intrigues
like some mercenary leader, as the Duke of Bari would have him
do. The latter asserts that we only make a show of warlike pre-
parations^ and that in any great emergency we would even have
recourse to Turkish aid. But we are prepared to defend ourselves,
and we shall be ready for the most desperate resolves, if others
will respect neither faith, country, nor religion. We remember
that Pope Innocent himself wrote • —

*' Flcctere si nequco Supcros, Achcronta moveljo.'*

Finally, as though he already beheld the dreaded enemy before
him, he concluded with these almost prophetic words : *' Never
did Frenchmen come into Italy ? without bringing it to rciin, and
this coming of theirs is of a sort, if one well considers it, that
must bring universal ruin, although they threaten us alone/' =

* "Cudice Aragonese,** vol, i. part ii. p. 348 and foL ; letter of iSth December,
1493*

* IbkL, vol- ii. part ii, p» 421. After ihis come onl)^ a few very brief kuers of
Kenan te.

t^S

INTRODUCTION,

And Ferrante, his mind distracted by these tormenting
thoughts, finally ceased to breathe after a three days" illness,
on the 25th of January^ 1404.* He was succeeded by Alfonso,
who, more impetuoust more cru*rl» and of less capacity than his
father, now perceived the desperate condition of his kingdom,
and sought for aid from the Pope, from LodovicOp from the Turk,
and from all in vain, for now the coming of the French was
inevitable — inevitable, therefore, the fall of the Aragonese in
Naples,

Meanwhile, Piero dei Medici in Florence was indifferent to
everything : his inclinations were in favour of the Aragonese,
but his chief occupation lay in tilting matches ;^ the Venetians
looked on quietly ; Ferrara declared herself friendly to France ;
Bologna made an alliance with Lodovico ; the Pope, always true
to his character, alarmed by the threat of a council that Charles
VIII, talked of assembling, declared that he should giv^e him a
friendly reception in Rome,3 while at the same time he despatched
one of his nephews to Naples to place the crown on King
Alfonso*s head. Confusion wtls at its height, and the Italian
exiles pushed on the French expedition with greater urgency than
ever, each one hoping in this way to revenge his own particular
wrongs upon existing governments.

On the 1st of March, Charles VIIL made his state entry into-
Lyons, to assume the command of the expedition ; an advanced
guard under the Scotchman d'Aubigny^ was already pushing
towards the Neapolitan frontier, and the Duke of Orleans was
at Genoa. The Neapolitans on their side sent the Prince of
Altamura with thirty galleys towards Genoa, while the Duke of
Calabria, an inexperienced youth, entered the Pontifical States,
under the guidance of tried generals, among whom was G. G.
Trivulzio, a valiant Milanese exile. The Pope seemed to have
lost his head, and no longer knew what course to adopt. Yet,

* "Cronaca fJi Notar Giacomo,^' Naples. 1845^ p* xjS. Guicci^irdini and
MachiavelU pretend that King Fcnantc at the lust wished to throw himself into
Lodovicd^s hands, and MachiavelH adds that he desired to take his daughter frnm
Gian Galeazzo and give her to the Moor, e\ idenlly forgetting that she was the
mother of three children and that Lodovico bad a wife.

* Vide his letters dated 5lh and 23rd of January, 1494, among the documents
published by A. Cappelli, under the title: ** Fra Girolamo Savonarola and
Notices of his Times/' Modena, 1869.

3 Brief of the 1st of February, 1494, tn the ** Archivio Storico*' (" AnnaU'' by
Malipicro), vol. vii, p, 404.

THE ARRIVAL OF CHARLES VIIL IN ITALY, 197

taking advantage of the emergency, he asked the Sultan to
anticipate the yearly payment of the 40,000 ducats due to him
for the custody of Djem^ and in order to frighten the Turk^ he
added that the French were coming to liberate that prince, in
order with his help to carry the war into the East, And the
Pope would have obtained this money, had not the ambassador
who brought it, been seized and robbed at Sinigaglia, in the
month of September by the Prefect Giovanni della Rovere,
brother of the Cardinal of San Piero in Vincoli,*

Charles the VIII. having passed the Monginevra, entered Asti
in the first da)^ of September, He soon received intelligence
that Don Federico and the Neapolitan fleet had been repulsed
with hea\y losses before Porto Venere, and that the Duke of
Orleans and his Swiss had entered Rapallo, sacked the place, and
put all the inhabitants, even the sick in the hospital^ to the
sword, thereby striking terror into the Italians, who were un-
accustomed to carry on war in so sanguinary a fashion. On
reaching Piacenza, the king learnt that Gio. Galeazzo, whom he
had recently seen at Pavia, had just died there, poisoned, as all
men said, by the Moor, who after celebrating his obsequies at
Milan, had entered St. Ambrogio, at the hour indicated by his
astrologer, to consecrate the investiture already granted to him
by Maximilian, King of the Romans. All this filled the minds of
the French with suspicion, almost with terror ; they were begin-
ning to understand the nature of their closest ally^s good faith.
In fact, while Lodovico with one hand collected men and money
for their cause, with the other he wove the threads of a league
intended to drive them from Italy, when the moment should
arrive. In 1493, Perrone dei Baschi, a man of Italian origin,

' On ihc person of the Amlxissador Bojtardo, besides the 4O,tx)0 duc^ttSr a letter
from the i^ullan to the Pope waii found, offering 3Cx:)fOOO ducats more for Djem^S
<lesu] body, and concluding thus : ** In this wiiy, the worlhy fnther of the Cilholic
Chufch could imrchase stales for his children and our liirolhcr Djem would Iind
Ifpoce in the other life," Both the letter and that of the Pope to the Suttein arc
to be found in Burckhardt's Diar)* ami in Sanudo's *' De atlventu Karoli regis
I Francorum in Italiam," a vfork still in great part unpublished, and of which the
I otiginal MS. is in the Nalioual Library in Paris* A copy which I caused to be
Aade of it* with the assistance of our Ministry of Public Instruction, is in the
libfajy of St. Mark at ^''enioe, and Prokssor Fulin has commencetl its puMicaiiOQ
m the ** Archivio Veneto." It may be co^isidered as the I si vol* of the ** Diarii,'*
by the same author, since they begin where this leaves off. See Cherrier, op. cU*^
»oL I. p. 415 J Gregorovius, ** Geschichie," &c, (2nd edriioo), vol. vii. p. 350,

igS

INTRODUCTION,

had come to visit the Courts of the Peninsula, carrying back
wind for his pains ^ as Piero dei Medici wrote,' Next came
Phihp de Commines, a man of much acuteness and talent,
though of no integrity of character^ and well acquainted with
Italy, where he had already been several times before* but he
found at no Court any hope of assured friendship, much less of
material assistance, although many looked forward to the arrival
of the French as a means of promoting their own designs. He
who in his '* Memoirs" said of the men of his own time : ** Nous
sommes affoiblis de toute foy et loyaulte, les uns envers les
aultres, et ne s^auroye dire par quel lieu on se pouisse asseurer
les uns des aultres/*^ experienced in Italy, the truth of his
observations, and discovered that he was among a people still
keener and more cunning than himself ^

Nevertheless the fortunes of the French prospered rapidly.
The Duke of Calabria^ having entered Romagna^ withdrew across
the Neapolitan frontier at the first glimpse of D'Aubigny's forces ;
and the bulk of the French army, commanded hy the King in
person^ marched through the Lunigiana without encountering
obstacles of any kind. After taking Fivizzano^ sacking it^ and
putting to the sword the hundred soldiers who defended it, and
part of the inhabitants, they pushed on towards Sarzana, through
a barren district, between the mountains and the sea, where the
shghtest resistance might have proved fatal to them. But the
small castles, intended for the defence of these valleys^ yielded
one after the other, without any attempt to resist the invaders ;
and hardly had the siege of Sarzana commenced than Piero dei
Medici arrived, frightened out of his senses, surrendered at
discretion, and even promised to pay 200,000 ducats.

But on Piero^s return to Florence on the Sth of November, he
found that the city had risen in revolt, and sent ambassadors to
the French King on its own account to offer him an honourable
reception ; but that at the same time it was making preparations
for defence in case of need. So great was the public indignation
that Piero took flight to Venice^ where his own ambassador,
Soderini, hardly deigned to look at him, having meanwhile
declared for the republican government just prtxrlaimed in
Florence, where everything had been rapidly changed. The

* See the previously quoted ineditcd kiters of Piero dei Medki, and those
published by Desjardins. ' " Mcmoires," vol. i. p. 156*

3 Leltenhove, ^/. cU.^ val. i. p. 194 ; vol. ii/pp. 108 and 123.

THE ARRIVAL OF CHARLES VHL IN ITALY. 199

houses of the Medici ^ and their garden at St, Mark had been
pillaged, exiles had been recalled and acquitted ; a price put on
Piero*s head and that of his brother, the CardinaK At the sf^anie
titne^ however, Pisa had risen in rebellion under the eyes of
King Charles, and cast the Marzocco * into the sea : Arezzo and
Montepulciano, too, had followed Pisa^s example. The fabric, so
long and so carefully built up by the Medici , was now suddenly
crumbling into dust.

On the 17th of November, Charles VIIL, at the head of his
formidable army, rode into Florence with his lance in rest,
believing that that fact sufficed to make him master of the city.
But the Florentines were armed , they had collected six thousand
soldiers within the walls, and they knew perfectly well that from
the vantage posts of tower:= and houses, they could easily worst
an army scattered through the streets. They therefore repulsed
the King's insolent proposals^ and when he threatened to sound
his trumpets, Picro Capponi, tearing up the offered treatVt replied
that the Florentines were more ready to ring their bells.
Through this firmness equitable terms were arranged. The
Republic was to pay 120,000 florins in three quotas ; the for-
tresses^ however, were to bu speedily restored to her. On the
iKth of November the French left the city, but not without
stealing all that remained of the collection of antiquities in the
Medici Palace. Commines tells us that all did the best they
could for themselves, and that the highest officers stole most.
Nevertheless the citizens were thankful to be finally delivered
alike from old t^Tants and new invaders.

Having reached Rome, Charles V^IIL, in order to have done
with the Pope,^ who now seemed inclined for resistance, pointed
his guns against the Castle of St, Angelo, and thus matters were
soon settled. On the 17th of June, 14Q5, Bri9onnet was nomi-
nated Cardinal of St. Malo, and the King attended a grand mass
celebrated by the Pope in person , who was so little accustomed
to perform any religious ceremonies, that he was only enabled to
go through it by the help of Cardinal di Napoli, who filled the
office of prompter.

• The lion with the lily, ensign of the Florentine Repiiblk,

* At this juncture a circumstance cKTcurred which caused much mirth lo all Italy.
The BenutifuL Ginliat her sbter. and Mathmna Adrian a had fallen into the hands
of the French- At this the Pope was in despair, and knew no peace until his
Giulia and her companions were liberated on |xiyment of the sum of 3,CXX3 ducats.
Gregorovius, *' Lttcrczia Borgia," vol. i. p. Si.

INTRODUCTIOK

Iti accordance with the treaty signed in Rome, Charles VIIL
continucd his journey toward!^ Naples, accompanied by the
Cardinal of Valencia as hostage, together with the Prince Djem.
Oo their arrival at Velletri^ however, the Cardinal had vanished ;
his plate-chests had already stopped half-way ; the trunks con-
taining his baggage, with which seventeen mules were loaded »
were discovered to be empty ; Djem fell so gravely ill upon the
way that he died directly he reached Naples. Everybody said
that he had been poisoned by the Borgias ; but the \'enetians,
who always had accurate intelligence from their ambasjfiadorSi
asserted on the contrary that he had died a natural death,* The
King was highly indignant at the Cardinal's escape, and ex-
claimed : '* Perfidious Lombard, and more perfidious Pope ! '* *
His attempts to recapture the Cardinal were all in vain.
Scarcely encountering any obstacles, Charles led his army on to
Naples. Alfonso, of Aragon renounced the throne, and fled to
Sicily ; Ferdinand II., or Ferrandino, as he was called, after
vainly^eeking aid from all, even from the Turk, made a fruitless
stand al Monte San Giovanni, which was taken, destroyed, and all
its population put to the sword,-* Gian Giaconio Trivulzio
deserted the Aragonese, and passed over to the enemy ; Virginio
Orsini prepared to do the same ; Naples rebelled in favour of the
French, who marched in on the 22od of February, The following
day Ferrandino fled to Ischia, then to Messina. And shortly the
arabas.^adors of the Italian States appeared to offer congratulations
to the conqueror.

Now at last the Venetians w^ere aroused, and having sent their

1

* CheiTitr, &p. a'Lf vol- ii. p. I J7, gives a translation of the leUcr, in which
the Ten mcniion ihiA evt-ni. And in fact the Borgia, by Djem's decease, lost
ibe annual payment of 40,000 ducatfi, wiihout obtaining the 300,000 promised to
them on receipt of his corpse. Sanudo recoimts the the and progress of Djem^s
malfldy. It was a feverisli cold, which the iloctors treated with bloodletting and
other energeiic remedies. At Aversa he was already so much worse^ that he had
to be carried on a hUr (** De adventu KaroH regis,'* p. 212 of the copy in
the Library of St. Mark). This author, according to \\\s wont, refers to the
lelleis of the Venetian ambassador uho was present, and vsho observes ihat
Djem's death had been hurtful to Italy, ** and especially to the Pope, who was
thus deprived of the 40,000 golden ducats, yearly paid to him by his brother {the
Sultan) for keeping Djem in safe custo<ly.'* Following the Venetian orthography,
we write Sanudo ; some authors call him Sanuto.

' Sanudo, ** De adventu," &c., p. 230. •

3 •* II ne senddoit point aux nolres, que les Italiens fussent hommcs," wrote dc
Comminea h propoi of French cruelties.

THE ARRIVAL OF CHARLES VIH IN ITALY, 201

envoys to Milan to know if Lodovico were disposed to take up
arms to drive out the French ^ they found him not only ready to
do so, but full of indignation. ** The king has no head/* he said,
** he is in the hands of persons who only think of getting money,
and would not make half a wise man.** He recalled the haughti-
ness with which he had been treated by the French » and declared
himself resolved to join in any league in order to drive them from
the country. He advi&ed that money should be sent to Spain
and to Maximilian, to induce them to attack France ; but added
that care must be taken not to call them into Italy, ** since having
already one fever here, we should then have two/* *

A league was in fact concluded between the Venetians,
Lodovico, the Pope, Spain and Maximilian. And Philip de
Commines^ who was ambassador to Venice, and who at the news
of his king's entry into Naples had beheld the Senators so cast
down^ that, as he says, the Romans after the defeat at Cannae
could not have been ^' plus esbahis ne plus espouvantes," * now
found them full of courage and indignation. The Neapolitans,
soon wearied of bad government, had risen in revolt, and Charles
VHL after a stay of only fifty days in Naples had to make his
departure with excessive haste, before every avenue of retreat
should be cut off, leaving hardly more than 6,000 men in the
kingdom, and taking with him a numerous army, which however
only numbered 10,000 real combatants. On the 6th of July a
pitched battle took place at For n novo near the river Taro. The
allies had assembled about 30,000 men^ three-fourths of whom
were Venetians, the rest composed of Lodovico's soldiers and a
&w Germans sent by Maximilian. At the moment of attack they
^ad in fighting array double the number of the French force ;
but half of them remained unused owing to a blunder of Rodolfo
Gonzaga, while the enemy were in good order, with their van-
guard under the command of G* G. Trivulzio, w^ho, notwithstand-
ing that he was in arms against his own countrymen, displayed
great valour and military genius. The battle was bloody, and
it was a disputed question which side obtained the victory ; but
although the Italians were not repulsed, remaining indeed masters
of the field, the French succeeded in cutting their way through,
w^hich was the chief object they had in view, The King made

* TKis letter is to be found in Romanin, *'Stona documentaia di Veneiifti"
vol. V. p» 50. See al&tj Cherrier, " Histoire dc Charles Vin..''vol. ii, j-\ 97,

* Commines, <?/, dt,^ vol. ii. p. 16S; Chcrricr, op, cit.^ voJ. ii, p. 151.

202

INTRODUCTION.

a halt at Asti and received the Florentine ambassadors, to whom
he again promised to dehver up the strongholds held by his-
forces — the city of Pisa included — and received 30,000 ducats in
lieu of the 120,000 promised in Florence, but gave in pledge i
jewels of an equal value, to be restored to him as soon as the
fortresses should be given up. Besides this the Florentines pro-
mised 250 men*at-arms to help the King's cause in Naples, as
well as a loan of 70,000 ducats, which* however, they never gave,
as they did not receive the fortresses,* Lodovico, taking ad van-
tage of the situation, soon made an agreement with the French
on his own account, without concerning himself about the
Venetians ; he believed that in this wise he had freed himself
from both, but in reality he had earned the hatred of both, as he
was soon driven to confess.

The fortunes of the French now declined rapidly in Italy, and
all the more speedily owing to their bad government in the
Neapolitan kingdom, and most abominable behaviour towards the
new friends who had remained faithful to them. In fact, Captain
d'Entrangues, in direct violation of all his sovereign's promises,
gave up the citadel of Pisa, on receipt of a bribe, to the inhabi-
tants of that city, who took possession of it on the 1st of January,
1496, to the bitter mortification of ihe Florentines. Later, for
more money, he surrendered Pietrasanta to the Lucchesi ; other
captains in imitation of his example, yielded Sarzana and
Sarzanello.^ Meanwhile Ferdinand IL, with the aid of the
Spaniards under Consalvo di Cordova, advanced triumphantly
through Calabria and entered Naples on the 7th of July, 1406,
In a short time all the Neapolitan fortresses capitulated, and the
French who had held them returned to their own country, more
than decimated and in an altogether deplorable condition* On
the 6th of October Ferdinand IL breathed his last, worn out by
the agitation and fatigues of the war, and was succeeded by his
uncle Don Fcderico,^ the fifth king who had ascended the
Neapolitan throne within the last five years. He was crowned by
the Cardinal of Valencia.

Once more Italy beheld herself freed from foreigners. It is
true that the same vear witnessed a brief inv^asion by Maximilian,
who at Lodovico's instigation, came to help Pisa and prevent her

* This treaty is to be ft/und in Desjardins, op. cU,^ vol, i, p. 630, Sec also
Chcrricr, op. cit.^ vol. li. p. 293. * Cberricr* op. fit,, vol. it. p. 338.

^ Ferdinand I., Alfonso II, » Charles VIII., Ferdinand IL, Federico,

THE BORGIA.

203

from falling into the hands of cither the Florentines or Venetians ;
but he came with a small following^ found no supporters, and
went away without having accomplished anything. In fact^
Naples was now in the absolute power of the Spaniards, who
were already maturing their iniquitous designs upon the king-
Ldom ; these, however, were only discovered at a later period,
Charles VIII, declared himself a penitent man^ talked of changing
his mode of life» of punishing the Pope^ and renewing the Italian
expedttiou ; but meanwhile he remained in France and abandoned
himself to excesses. Thus, at least in appearance, all was tranquil.
But on the 7th of Aprils 1498, the King died of apoplexy ; with
his death the line of the Valois became extinct, and he was
succeeded by the Duke of Orleans under the title of Louis XII.
In consequence of his relationship with the Visconti, this potentate
had always asserted rights upon the Duchy of Milan. Now in
assuming the French crown, he could lay claim to other rights in
Italy, and had also the power to assert them openly. And in
fact^ his reign initiated the long series of fresh invasions which
heaped so many calamities upon our land.

3. Thk Bohgia.

While, howeverj the apparent peace lasted, general attention
was fixed upon the events occurring in Rome and the Roman
territory, Alexander VL had profited by the ill-fortune of the
French^ to confiscate the possession of the Orsini, who had
deserted the Aragonese to go over to Charles VIII., and after
abandoning him, as soon as they saw his luck beginning to turn,
had joined his party once more. In this way, Virginio Orsini had
been taken prisoner hy the Spaniards when they came to replace
Ferdinand II. on the Neapolitan throne. According to the
terms of the treaty, they ought to have sent him across the
frontier, but the Pope opposed the idea fiercely, even with threats
of excommunication, for his object was the extermination of the
Orsini family. Upon this Virginio was shut up m the Castel
dell Uovo at Naples, and there died. His followers were in the
meantime stripped of ever)thing in the Abruzzi ; where also
Alviano and Giovan Giordano Orsini were made prisoners. This
was the moment chosen by the Pope to declare war against these,
his perpetual enemies^ who were still both numerous and power-

I

104

INTROD UCTION,

fuh On the jjth of October, his troops under the command of
the Duke of Urbino and Fabri^io Colonnai took the field against
the Orsini who had withdrawn to Bracciano, Although the
principal members of the family were in captivity, and many
cruel blows had been that year inflicted upon all their race ; yet
they were still strong enough to measure their forces with his.
Their hopes rose high, when Bartolommeo d'Alviano/ having
escaped from prison^ arrived at Bracciano with a handful of hb
men. Very i^hortly the conflict began in earnest, and not only
Alviano, but also his wife, the sister of Virginio Orsini, distin-
guished themselves by their valour. In the first skirmishes the
Papal troops were continually worsted. Afterwards, Carlo
Orsini and Vitellozzo Vitelli arrived from France ; but the
Pope's army receiving reinforcements at the same time, on the
23rd of Januar^^, J497i a real battle took place, which terminated
in a signal victory for the Orsini. In the previous encounters,
the Cardinal of Valencia had been hotly pursued up to the
very walls of Rome ; now the Duke of Gandia was wounded,
the Duke of Urbino a prisoner, and the flight of Cardinal Lunate
was so headlong, that he died from its eff'ects. The enemies of
the Borgia were in a state of exultation, and the Orsini were once
more masters of the Campagna. The Pope, beside himself with
rage, made fresh preparations for war, and had even appealed for
aid to Consalvo de Cordova, when the Venetians came forward
as mediators* and peace was made. The Orsini paid a sum of
5o,cxx) ducats, but were reinstated in their own lands, and all
those who were still prisoners in the Neapolitan kingdom, were
liberated, excepting Virginio, who had expired before the news of
the victory arrived. The Duke of Urbino^ for whom they
demanded a ransom of 40,000 ducats^ was handed over to the
Pope on account of the sum they owed him, and the Holy
Father refused to set him at liberty, although his own Captain,
until he paid the sum imposed by his enemies. The Duke, who
was the son of the celebrated Federico, had no family, and the
Borgia made use of him as their defender, first despoiling him
of his wealth and then, still more shamelessly, of his state.

Notwithstanding the hard terms of the peace, the Orsini were

possessed of immense power ; the Pope, detested by all men,

could depend upon none excepting his 3^000 Spaniards, and on the

friendship shown to him by Consalvo de Cordova, who recaptured

' Bartoloninieo d'Alviano di Todi, husband of Baiiolommca Orsini.

THE BORGIA.

205

le Castle of Ostia for his benefit. As the Borgia could no longer
undertake fresh warlike enterprises, some demoniac impulse
seemed to compel them to turn their weapons against themselves,
and exterminate their own relations^ under circumstances of
incredible iniquity. On the night of the 14th of June^ 1 497* ^^
Duke of Gandia never returned to his house. The day after* his
groom was found wounded, ^without being able to give any account
of his master ; the mule ridden by the Duke was caught running
about the streets with only one stirrup left, the other having been
cut off. The mystery thickened. It appeared that on the pre-
ceding evenings the Duke had supped with his brother the Cardinal
of Valencia, at the house of their mother Vannozza. They rode
away together, but presently separated, the Duke being followed
by a man in a mask, who for a long time had gone everywhere
with him, and by the groom whom he left in the Piazza dei
Giudei. This was all that could be ascertained. At first, the
Pope took the matter lightly, thinking that his son was probably
in hiding with some woman.' But when 00 the following night
he was still missing, the Pope became violently alarmed, and
showed the greatest agitation. Suddenly — no one knew how — a
rumour spread through the city, that the Duke had been thrown
into the Tiber,

One of the Sclavonian charcoal-mongers on the Ripetta, being
summoned and interrogated, replied that ivhilc resting in his boat
on the night of the 14th, he had seen a gentleman ride up, carrying
a corpse behind him, and accompanied by two men on foot ; and
that all three disappeared as soon as they had thrown the body
into the river. Being asked why he had not mentioned this fact
sooner, he replied that he had seen the same sort of thing occur
at the same place hundreds of times, night after night, without
any one making any stir about it,^ Numerous sailors were sent to
drag the river, and the Pope's son was found with his boots, spurs,
and mantle still on. His hands irere tied ; he had nine wounds
about the head, arms, and body,— one, and that mortal, in his

r ' ** Ipsum ducem alicubi cum ptidla intendcre luxui sibi persuadens, et ob earn
causam puell:edomum exire ipsi dud non lictrre " (Burchardi, " Diariuin," in the
National Library of Florence, cod* ii. 1 50, foL 21).

^ •* Res|x)iidit ille ; se vidis.se sms diebus centum in divers is noctibus tn Bum en
proiici per iocum praedictuni, ct nunquam aliqaa eorum ratio est halnta ; propterea
de casu haiusniodi exislimaiionem aliquani non fecisse " (Burchardi, ** Diarium/*

cod. ii, fol. 4j. National Library, Florence).

206

INTROD UCTION.

throat ; there were thirty ducats in his purse,' an evident proof
that robbery was not the object of the murder.^ The corpse was
solemnly interred in the church of Sta Maria del Popolo. Most
people rejoiced at this assassi nation, though the Spaniards uttered
curses and lamentations ; and the Pope^ when he learnt that his
son had been cast into the Tiber hke other rubbish from the
Ripetta, abandoned himself to a grief of which no one had deemed
him capable,^ He shut himself up in the castle of St. Angelo,
haunted^ said many, by the Duke's spectre, and wept bitterly.
For many days he refused food, and his cries could be heard from
afar. On the igth of June, he held a consistory, at which he
declared that never had he experienced so heavy a sorrow : '* If we
had seven Papacies, we would give them all to bring the Duke to
life.** ♦ He showed an apparently sincere repentance for his past
life, and announced to all the potentates that he had entrusted the
reform of the Church to six cardinals : that this henceforward
would be the sole aim of his existence.

These pious designs, however, speedily evaporated. Who was
the author of the assassination ? What had been his motives ?
The Orsini s were suspected ; Cardinal Ascanio Sforza, who had
recently had some tlifFerences with the Duke, was also accused,
and the suspicions against him were so strong, that the Cardinal,
even after receiving an explicit dtclaration from the Pope that he
had never given credence to such rumours, thought fit to present
himself to his Holiness, with an escort of faithful friends carrying

' The Dyke of Ganglia was twcnly-four years of age, and through his descen-
dants the line of the Borgia was carried down to the eighteenth century, A
nephew of hi*, was the third general tif the Jesuits.

3 ^* Pontifex, intellecto ducem inlerfcclum» in flumen ut siercti^ proiectum. com-
putuni cssct comnima sunt omnia viscera cius ^' (Bnrchardi, *VDiariuni/* cod. ii,
fol. 231).

^ This speech of ihc Pn|?e, reporttd by the Venetian ambasw^dor, ii to be found
in Sanudot and is quoied l^y Reiimontt ** Geschichle der Stadt Rom," vol. uL
pan ii. p. 338.

^ 5 Sanudo in his ** Diarii," of which ihc original is in the Library of St. Mark,
cites various letters in proof that the Orsini were among the suspected, Afanfredi,
the Duke of Fcrrara's nnd^assiador to Florence, in the letters published by A,
Cai^pelli, from which we have before quoted, gives one of the 12th of August,
and another of the 22nd of December^ 1497^ in the first of which it is mentioned 1
that suspicion had fallen upon the Orsini, and in the second, upon Bartolommea ^
d'Aiviano* Cappelli, '* Fra Girolamo Savonarola c notizie intorno al suo tempo/
&c.

THE BORGIA.

207

hidden weapons.* Numberless refearches were begun and then
suddenly suspended ; ^ and a generally credited rumour was spread
that the Duke's assassin was no other than his own brother^ Car-
dinal Cce->ar Bargia. *' And certainly/^ wrote the Florentine
ambassador from the beginning, ** whocv'er arranged the A^^'i had
both plenty of wits and courage ; and however one may look at
it, 'twas a master's stroke/- ^ Gradually rumours ceased as to the
author of the assassination ; and people only made surmises as to
his probable reasons for so abominable a crime.

Men spoke of the jealousy existing between the Cardinal and
the Duke regarding Donna Sancia, Don Giuffre's wife, who led a
notoriously scandalous hfe. Worse things still were said, and
people publicly talked of rivalry between the two brothers, saying
that they disputed with their father the favours of their sister
Lucrezia.* And these revolting rumours were noted and believed
by grave historians ; recalled by illustrious poets. Yet although
every one repeated these things in public, and all looked upon
Cardinal Caesar Borgia as the author of the assassination * pre-

' The Florentine ambassador 1 Alessandro Bracci, gives details of this affair in
his kltcrs, which are to be found in MS. in the Florentine Archives, and are of
considerable imix>rtance. ThAt, however, of the i6ih of June, giving an account
of the murder of the Duke of (iantlia, is unfortunately missing fmui the ftle.
Archivio Fiurentino, *' Leilre dei Died di Balia da Maggio a Dicembre, 1497/*
cJ. X. dist. 4, No. 54, sheet 53.

' Letter of A, Bracci, dated the 4th of July, 1497, MS. above quoted* sheet 78,

* Ibid,, dated the 17th of Juue, 1497. Sec Appendix, doc* It.

* The death of the Duke of Gandia is related in detail l>y all contemporary his-
torians* Gregorovius, in his ** Storia di Roniat'* cites many original documents,
among them a very remarkable letter from Ascanio Sfor^a to Lodovico the ^loor,
dated the i6ih of June* 1497 t^^^* ^'^i* P* 399j "^^^ *)• Burchardi gives in his
*• Diario" a minute and trauic report of the event ; Mataraz/o, Malipiero, all con-
lem[.iorary writers, and the letters of private individuals and of the ambassadors
resident in Rome, make mention of it, Sanudo quotes much from all these, and
we perceive the cxtraordinar)^ impression the deed had made in Rome, where men's
imaginations were greatly excited. In a letter of the 16th of June (Sanudo, vol.
i. sheet 310)* be says : ** Maxima dcnionum caien'a in ba^iilica tieati Petri audita
e visa fuit per p1ures» ct ibidem lot et tanta luminaria, ut ip^ basilica peniius a
fundaiuentis supra arderc et comburi videretur : ecce quanta prodigia \ '" letters
of the 17th of December, 1497 (%'ol. i» sheet 391 J, and oihci later ones quoted by
the same (vol. i. sheet 408), rei>eat things of the same kind. We have still the
letters in which the Pope announces the deed and his grief to the different powers,
but from these nothing new is to be learnt. In a speech made at a Consistory, the
Pope explicitly scouted the suspicions weighing upon Ascanio .Sforza» ihe Prince of
S<juillace, and the Lord of Pesaro, which proves that such suspicions had been
entertained. Viat Keumunt, " Gei»chichle," &:Cf, and Sanudo, ** Raggu.igU storici,**
published l^y Rawdun Brown (Venice, 1S37-381 vol. i, p. 74).

20S

INTRO D UCTION,

cisely for that reason he became the most powerful man in Rome^
and likewise the most dreaded| for even the Pope seemed to cower
beneath the inysterious fascination of his own son, Cxsar had now
decided on forsaking the ecclesiastical career^ and already there was
some talk of making his brother, Don Giuffre, Cardinal in his
steadj who^ for that end^ was to be separated from his wife, so that
she might marry Caesar as soon as he should have become a
layman.'

Meanwhile Alexander VL continued his intrigues with the beau*
tiful Giulia and several Spanish women. According to public
rumour, he had had another son by a Roman woman, whose hus-
band revenged himself by killing her father^ for having sold her
to the Pope** Lucrezta, who in the June of 14971 namely, at the
time that the Duke of Gandia was murdered by his brother, had
been shut up in a convent^ without any one knowing for what
reason, was, in December, by command of her father, separated
from her husband Giovanni Sforza, now declared to be impotent.^
In March, 1408, according to accounts reported even by the
ambassadors, she gave birth to an illegitimate child, whose
parentage was involv^ed in much mystery. On the one hand, we
find no further mention of him ; on the other, some years after-
wards a Giovanni Borgia appears, who by his age must have been
born somewhere about I498.'» By a Brief of September i, 1501,
the Pope legitimatized him as one of Caesar *s natural sons, calling
him about three years old. 5 By a second Brief, dated the same

* Sanudo menlions this at lenglli in his '* Diarii,** voL i. sheet 556 and 559.
Rawdon Brown gives some frognicnts of thei^e in his before -quoted work, voL i.
p. 212. = tircgorovius, ** Lucrezia Borgia/' voK i. p. 48*

^ On the 19th of July, the Florentine amhasivadort A. Bracci, wrote that a divorce
was being arranged between the Lord of Pesaro and Donna Lucreziai '* whom his
Holiness recalled to ihe palace three days after the Duke of CJandia's death, and
who still remains ihere," In sejxirating from the Lord of Pesaro, Lucrezia declared
herscif prepared to take her oalh that she had never had any relation with her
husband, nnd was therefore still a virgin. On this head, addi Mala^a^^:o, at p.

*j%i ** Etiam advenga ad dio chc fusse stata c fu&se allor la piu ^an p che

fussc in Roma,"

* Reumunt in his ** Storia di Roma " first believed him to be a son of Lucrezia ;
then a son of the Pope by an unknown mother {" Archivio Storico," Series iiz.
vol, vii. dispensa and, 1873, p, 329). The documents publislied by Gregorovius
in his " Lucrezia Borgia " (voL i, p. 159 and fol.) throw a sinister light upon this
event.

s ** De dilecto filio nobiti viro Cesare Borgia . , , et soluta (niuliere).'* The
Brief also states that Giovanni was three years old, vei circa. Gregorovius,
** Lucrezia Jiorgia." doc. 27.

THE BORGIA.

309

dsiy^ he recognized him for his own son instead, with the proviso
that, notwithstanding this^' the preceding act of legitimacy must
be held good. And in fact this was done in order that the
mysterious child might be able to legally inherit property. All
the documents relating to this matter are to be found among
Lucrezia*s private archives at Modena. Also at one period we find
that she had with her in Ferrara this very Giovanni, of whom we
can only say, that most certainly it was the fact of his existence
that gave rise to all the disgusting rumours regarding the rela-
tions of the Pope with his own daughter. These rumours were
chiefly propagated by her husband, Sforza, who at Milan plainly
said that this was the reason why the Pope had insisted on
separating him from his own wife.*

In the July of 1497, Caesar Borgia went to Naples to the
coronation of King Federico, and petitioned for money, privileges,
and land, with so great an importunity that the Florentine am-
bassador wrote : *' It would not be astonishing if the poor king
had recourse to the Turk in his despair, were it only to free him-
self from these annoyances."' 3 On the 4th of September he was
again in Rome, where it was remarked that when he kissed the
Pope neither of them uttered a syllable : Caesar in those days
spoke but httle^ and put all men in fear.-* He \xz% m want of
money to replace the revenues he lost in resigning his cardinal's
hat, and to carry out his new and extended designs. Therefore
the Pope who yielded to him in all things, set about finding new
victims. His secretary Fieri do was accused of the composition of
false Briefs, and instantly his house was pillaged, and all the
money, hangings and plate it contained, conveyed to the Vatican,
The unhappy prelate was condemned to perpetual imprisonment,

* *' Cum aiitem lu def^ectum prt?dictiim (natalium) non He prcfalo duce sed de
tu>f>is et tie dicta muliere soliita panaris, quod bcta^ respicttt in lettcris predicts
specifice exprimere noluimus," &c. And it concludes saying that the precediog
legitimization holds good^ and the power to inherit. And according to Gregorovius
Alexander did all this, becausCt although iinahlc to legitimatize the child as his own,
he wished to prevent Valentino from l>eing able to annxjl the act of legitimacy, on
the score of false grounds, Gregorovius^ " Lucrezia Borgia," doc. 28.

* See the desjjatch of the amiiassador of Ferrara quoted by Gregorovius,
•' Lucrezia Borgia/' vol, L p. loi.

' Letter of the Florentine ambassador A. Bracci (of the 19th Jul}^ 1497), who
says that he has these details from a person who is " a worthy pretale an inmate of
the V^atican^* (Archivio Florenlino),

* " Et benenon dixit verbum Papae Valentinus, nee Papa sibi, scd eo deosculato
desccndit de aolio " (Biuchardi, ** Diarium/' cod. cii.^ sheet 39)*

VOL- 1, 15

aio

INTRO D UCTION.

and shut up in a dungeon with some bread and water and a
lantern. From time to time the Pope sent other prelates to visit
him, in order that while playing at chess with him they might
extract confessions that would implicate fresh victims. This went
on till July, 1498^ when the wretched man ceased to live.'

Meanwhile negotiations were being carried on with the King of
Naples for the marriage of his daughter Carlotta with Cassar who
was still a cardinal The king was sorely harassed by many
vexations, and was heard to declare that he would rather lose his
kingdom than bestow his legitimate daughter upon ** a priest^ the
bastard of a priest.'*' Nevertheless to save himself from the
Pope's heavy threats, and notwithstanding the abominable
rumours referred to above, and which were already in circulationi
he was compelled to compromise matters by consenting to the
marriage of Lucrezia Borgia with Don Alfonso, ^ Duke of Bisceglie,
a youth barely seventeen, and a natural son of Alfonso IL The
wedding was celebrated on the 20th of June, 1498, ** and the
Pope/* wrote the Venetian ambassador, ** sat up till morning at
the feast, mUn behaving like a young man."^

On the 13th of August, 1498, C^sar made a declaration in the
Consistory, to the effect that he had only accepted the Cardinalate
to please the Pope \ but that the ecclesiastical life did not suit
him J and that he wished to forsake it. The Cardinals gave their
consent, Alexander VL cynically declared that he also consented
for the good of Caesar*s soul, pro salute animm sutE ; 5 and the
latter, as soon as he had thrown aside his frock, was sent as envoy
to France, bearer uf a Bull of divorce to Louis XIL, who wished

* Burchardi, " DiaTlum," fol. 39. Sec also a kner of the ambassador A, Bnicd,
dated 27th September, 1497* cad, tit, foj. 144*

* According lo Sanudo, the King had said : **Mi para el fiol del jxipa, ch'i
Cardinal, non sia in grado di darli mia fia per moglit, /ue/ sia fio del papa.**
"Diarii," vol. l part ii, p. 75, iSce note I to following page*) The Kimg
wrote to his ambassador in France : *' The unbearable anxiety we have suffered in
order to prevent the marriage ...» between our legitimate daughter and ihc
Cardinal of Valencia, a thing most unsuitable and contrary to all reai>on, is already
well known to you. Rather would we have consented to lose our kingdomi our
children and our bfe ** ('* Archivio Storico/* vol. xv. p. 235).

3 *■ Not to exasperate the Pope^ who plainly threatened him *' (** Archivio
Storico," vol. av. p. 235).

* Sanudo, *' Diarit," vol. i, part ii. p. 164. This second part of the 1st vol. is
missing in the original MS. at St. Mark's Library, and is only to be found in the
copy at the Imperial Library of Vienna.

s Brief of 3rd September* 1498* in Gregorovius, ** Gcschichte»** &c., vol. vii.

i

THE BORGIA.

2lt

to be separated from his wife, and married to the widow of
Charles VIII. ^ bringing him Brittany as her dower. The King
had already promised Caesar the Duchy of Valentinois and a
certain number of soldiers, who, under the French flag, would be
of great assistance to him in his enterprise on Romagna. In order
to procure the large sums of money necessary for this French
journey, which was to be on the most magnificent scale^ many
offices were soldi and no less than three hundred individuals
accused of infidelity, and then allowed to purchase their pardon.
•On the same pretext the Pope's Maggiordomo was thrown into
prison, and robbed of 20^000 ducats^ which he had in his own
house and in different banks.' The ist of October, 14^8, Caesar
started for France with the Bull of divorce, a CardinaFs hat
for Monseigneur d'Amboise^ and a letter, in which the Pope told
the King: **destinamus Maiestati tuae cor tmstrum^ videlicet
dilectum filium ducem Valentinensem quo nihil cariushabemus/**

The ostentatious splendour of Caesar and his train certainty
'dazzled the French ; the costume of the new Duke of Valentinois
was studded with jewels, and he scattered money broadcast in the
streets. Yet he was unsuccessful in the fresh attempts he now
made to obtain the hand of Carlotta d^^ragona, who was then at
the French Court. It was in vain that the Cardinal of San
Pietro in Vincoli — at one time the Pope^s enemy— used his best
efforts in his favour »3 The Duke ardently desired this marriage|
in the hope that it might one day be the means of giving him
possession of the kingdom of Naples ; but the Princess, fully
sharing her father's feelings, had a positive loathing for him.

Therefore Csesar, ha\nng gained the Duchy of Valentinois and
a hundred French spearmen, was obliged to content himself with
espousing Carlotta^ sister of Jean d^^lbret, King of Navarre, and
related to Louis XII. The latter monarch promised the Duke

' In Sanudo*s ** Diariij** vol, i. part ii. p. 44, there is a letter dated August,
I498» ending with these words, '* In conclusiont he is a very bad Pope, and shrinks
from no evil to swell his children's substance."

' This letter is in Molini's " Docuiuenti di Storia Italiana/* Florence, 1S36-37,
vol. i. p. 28*

5 Sanudo frequently mentions the reconciliation which had laktrn place l>etween
the Pope and Cardinal Delia Rovere. The Prefect of Rome, often c^Ied Prefect
of Sintgaglia, his place of abodcj was the Cardinal's brother, and was not included
in the reconciliation, for having (as before related) shared in the robbery of the
Turkish ambassador ; but he was afterwards pardonect by a Brief of the iStli
J<foyember» 1499. See Gregorovius, '* Geschichte," &c.t vol. vii. pp. 425-29.

3ia

INTRO D UCTION.

forth er aid, as soon as France should have conquered Milan^ for
which purpose he was gathering an array^ and had already made
an alliance with Venice (15th April, 1499), to which the Pope^
always ready to change sides, had also given his adherence. On
that account a most lively altercation arose between the Pontiff
and the Spanish ambassador* The latter threatened to prove
that Alexander was not the true Pope, and Alexander in his turn
threatened to have the ambassador cast into ihe Tiber^ and to
proclaim that the Queen Isabella was not, after all, '* so chaste a
woman as the world believed." ' Nevertheless the Holy Father
was considerably frightened , for although he had gone over to
France, he still cherished many hopes concerning the kingdom of
Naples, which could only be realized with the help of Spain.
It is true that he was now fond of saying and repeating, that he
wished to make Italy ^* al! of one piece ; '* ^ but the Venetian am-
bassadors, who clearly saw through him, always maintained that
this false and dissimulating man — ^still at the age of sixty-nine^ of
most robust health, and always given up to dissipation — daily
changed his policy, and got up discussions with the sole intent of
obtaining the kingdom of Naples for his son \ having meanw^hile
" converted Rome into the chaca of the world." ^

On the 6th October, 1499, Louis XII. entered Milan at the head
of his army, which was under the command of G, G. Trivulzio ;
and Lodovico the Moor, who had prepared for defence, now seeing
that he had both French and Venetians against him» and that his
own people w^re forsaking him, thought it best to make his
escape and go to Germany in search of aid. Meanwhile the am-
bassadors of the Italian States hastened to Milan to present their
respects to the King, and with them also came Valentinois in
person, with a small suite^ and bearing the French flag. He
assured himself of the friendliness of the victorious monarch,
earned the promise of fresh help in the conduct of his sanguinary
enterprises^ contracted in Milan a debt of 45,000 ducats, and he
then went back again to Rome^ where the Pope was collecting
money for the same purpose in any and every way, honest or
dishonest, and even by fresh assassinations. The Protonotary,

' Sanwdo, *' Diarii,*' voL li. foL 156.

' Ibid,, vol* ii- foL 274. Further on in folio 393 iherc is a description of I
Pope's changeable nature.

J Ibid., vol. ii. folio 326 : I lie ambassador says thai ihc Pope *' wants I
kmgdom (of Naples) for his son,*'

THE BORGIA.

213

Caetani, was thrown into prison, died, and his goods were confis-
cated ; his nephew, Bernardino, was murdered by Valenti noises
bravos near Sermoneta, of which estate the Borgia immediately
took possession.' Meanwhile Valeotinois was nominated Gonfa-
lonier of the Church, and he set out for Imola, after proclaiming
the ejectment of the Lords of Romagna and the Marches, under
the pretence of their hav'ing failed to pay the sums they owed to
the Popes. To that place he had already forwarded his own men,
who, together with his thousand Swiss, under the command of
the Baiili of Dijon, made up an army of about 8,000 men. Oa
the 1st of December Imola was taken, and afterwards Forii,
where, however, Caterina Sforza, who commanded the defence,
held the fortress with determined valour up to the J2th January,
1500, only yielding to the onslaught of the French. These^ in
admiration of her manly courage, saved her both from Valentinois'
soldiery, and from the revenge of the Pope, who desired her
immediate murder, because, in his opinion, ** the Sforza family were
the spawn of hell serpents/' = Thus Caterina was allowed to
finish her days in Florence, in the convent of the Murate,

After ForIi, Caesar captured Cesena, where he was obliged to
pause. Louis XIL had returned to France, and General Trivulzio,
whom he had left behind as governor, so greatly exasperated
Milan and Lombardy by his t\Tannous rule, that Lodovicoj
backed by a Swiss army, and favoured by the population, was
able to repossess himself of his State, and entered his capital in
triumph on the 5th of February, For this reason, Duke Valen-
tinois-s French troops were hastily recalled to join their com-
panions already on the retreat, and he was compelled to suspend
the war. He then determined to go to Rome, where the jubilee
had begun to bring in large pecuniary supplies, which were as
usual greedily seized and applied to the usual ends. Robed in
black velvet, with a gold chain round his neck, and wearing a
solemn and tragic aspect, Caesar made a grand, triumphal entiy
at the head of his army into the Eternal City, where he was
received by the Cardinals bareheaded. Proceeding a little
further, he threw himself at the feet of the Pope, who, after
exchanging a few words in Spanish with him iacrimavit et rixti

' Aftei wards this estate was restored 10 the Cactoni by Julius IL, who declared
that tliey had been unjustJy despoiled ofii.
' Sanudo, " Diarii," vol, ii, folio 329.

214

INTRO D UCTION,

a un tratfi} And noW| as it ^vas carnival timci great festivities
were arranged. A figure representing Victoria Juiii Cesaris^
mounted upon a car constructed for the purpose, made the
round of Piazza Navona, where scrvatw sunt fatuitates Romatm*
rum more solito.^ And the festivities multiplied, when news
arrived of the return of Louis XIL into Italy at the head of a
fresh army ; and that Lodovico, betrayed and abandoned by his
Swiss, had, on the loth of April, fallen into the hands of th&
French, together with his brother Ascanio. The latter was
confined in the tower of Bourges in Berry, and was afterwards)
liberated ; but Lodovico died in the castle of Loches, after ten
years' imprisonment.

At the first announcement of this fortunate news, the Duke of
Valentinois. certain of now being able to pursue his bloody enter-
prise in Ro magna, found it impossible to restrain his joy. Close .
to St* Peter's, a grand bull light was given, in which Cxsary?
** mounted on his Spanish jennet, distinguished himself by killing
six fierce bulls, cutting off the head of one of them at a single
stroke, which appeared a mighty feat to all Rome." ^

Meanwhile, pilgrims to the Jubilee continued to arri%^e in great
numbers ; there were more religious ceremonies than ever, and
indulgences and receipts were proportionately swelled. The
corpses of persons murdered during the night were found every
morning in the streets of Ronit^, and not seldom the victims
were prelates. One day (27th of May) eighteen bodies were to
be seen strung up on the Bridge of St. Angelo. These were
thieves executed by order of the Pope, among them the doctor
to the hospital of St. John Lateran» who was accustomed to spend
his early mornings in robberies and assassinations.* No sooner
did the confessor of the sick learn that any one of them ha
money, than he revealed it to the doctor, ^ui dubat ci recipe^
and they then divided the booty between them.s This example
of prompt and severe justice was only given because thirteen of

' The Ambassador V. Capello, in Sanudo, quoted hyGregorovius, ''Geschichte,**^
fltc., voL viii* p, 441.

* Burchardi, '* Diarium/' r/x/. cit., folio 1S5.

3 The narnitive of P. Cappcllo, Venetian amiiassador* published by Alb^ vsk
his " ReLazioni/' &c-, Series IL vol. ii. p. 10*

♦ ** Singulis diebus bono mane exibat in habitu brevi hospitale cum balista, et
interficiebat <|uos poterat commode, et pecumas corum attferebat ** (Burchardi^
** Diatium,*' cW. «/»» folio 209). 5 Burchardi* ** Diarium,*' ibid.

THE BORGIA.

«s

the men hung had robbed the French ambassador, with whom
the Pope wished to keep upon friendly terms/

In the July of the same year another of the tragedies peculiar
to the Borgia occurred. The Duke of BiscegHe^ Lucrezia's
husband, noticing that the friendship of the French had suddenly
deprived him of the good-will both of the Pope and of Valentinois,
no longer considered himself in safet>\ In 1499 he had witnessed
the exile of his sister Donna Sancia, and seen how the Holy
Father had threatened to drive her from her house by force, if
she ivould not go quietly.^ These and other signs awakened his
suspicions, and after some hesitation, he suddenly fled to the
Colonna at Gennazzano, intending afterwards to cross the Neapo-
litan border, and lea\ing his wife Lucrezia, who was in delicate
healthy in real or feigned sorrow. But in August he returned
at her entreatVi and joined her at S pole to, of which town she
had been nominated regent. Thence they returned together to
Rome, 3

On the evening of the 15th of July, 1500, the Duke of Bisceglie
coming down the steps of St, Peter^s was suddenly attacked by
assassins, who wnunded him about the head and arms, and then
took flight. He ran into the Vatican, and related how^ and by
w^hom he had been wounded to the Pope, who, as usual, was
sitting with Lucrezia, She first fainted away, and then led her
husband to a chamber in the Vatican and attended to his wounds.
For fear of poison, doctors were sent for from Naples. The sick
man was nursed by his wife and his sister Donna Sancia, who
" cooked for him in a pipkin," since there was no one to be
trusted. But Valentinois said, *'that which could not be done
at dinner shall be done at supper ; " and he kept his w^ord. In
fact, finding that the unhappy Duke was likely to reco%'er in spite
of the very severe wound in his head, he came suddenly into the
room one evening, and having sent away the two ladies, who

* Sanutlo, *' DLirii," vol. lii. foHo 141. The letters here given, dated 4th of
June, 1500, speak of the pleasure of the King of France at this execution, and
add thai further, within ten rlays^ all the Corsicans were driven away, who had
been some of the worst assassins in Rome,

* She returned, however, after a short absence.

^ Alx>ut this time^ and liefore the affair of the Duke of Bisceglie, ihc Pope bad
been in danger through the fall of a roof in the Vatican. The Venetian Ambas^^a-
dor, payini; him a visit on ihe 3nl of July, found with His Holiness ** Madonna
Lycrcjda, the princess, and her husliand, and one of Madonna Lucrezia's damoreU,
who is a favourite with the Pope ^' (Sanudo, ** Diarii,*' voL iii, folio 172).

lid ISTMODUCTION.

mycairtii ^ gl y obo^ be bad tbe Dnfe itmi^ in his bed by
Don Midiektto.' Xor tlu» tne was nncb mpbetj nude of the
HHff** The Pope hiffwrlf, after Uk fcEtf xtteo^ quietly
ronarbed to the VeiicCia& imhiTrMifir^ RkiIo Cappeilo — ^^The
Duke (Valentaiois) mj% that he Sd not iti&e hhn ; but if he
had ftmcb hfai it was oolj what be deaerred.-* Vaientinots, on
Ibe ooatrarfy mci^ eanwed binBcl f bf ^ying that he had
committed the crime becaoie the Ddke of Bisceghe meant to

Caesar was now twenty-seven yiars of age, in the flower of his
health and itroiglh ; he feb bimieif aatter of Rome, and of the
Pope hintseH^ wbo had $o great a fear of bim, that he did not
dare to otter a syOahle the day on vhich his confidential servant,
Plctio Caldesy or Pkrotto, vas mnxdered tn his arms, and the
man's blood spurted in his fxe. But Alexander was little
disturbed by all this, and snfiered no loss of rest.* ^* He is
seventy years of age," wrote the ambas^dor Cappello ; ** he

* **Ciim Doo «cfic( <x hm iiit i'rTTi ▼vlnetibiis abt dfttk modi m VtOXi suo fuit
fUasfobtttB drca liofaBi t^m, et in icro dicm pcimun Imam ooctis portatsm fuit
cadB¥cr ad hasiKniin Sancti fVtfi.** fiavdanli. *' Dkriura.'* Tbis i» Asotbtf of
ihe bets rdaied hf ocariy all cjootcBiponiy liktonaEis and smbassadors, wno^g
mhom we ontst specially tne&tioD the Venetian ambassador Paolo Cappello, then
to Rome, and who, in his aboTC-cjuoted *• Rdaiianc,** minatdy accounts alt the
paitiotlars which we have given. His narrative agrees with that of Bnrdiardi and
of Sanndot the latter nearly always tianscaibuig Cappello^s Roman despatches
either in full or in abridgement. After ruling the deed, Sanudo (**I>iarii,**
vol. ili. folio Vil) adds that the author of the crime was the same who had caused
the murder of the Duke of Gandia, Further on (folio 263 retro), he gives the
orator^ letters of the iSth and 20th of July^ stating that the Duke of Bisceglie
had been murdered ** because he had been trying to kill the Duke (Valentlnois)»
and the Duke has had it done by some bowmen, and has had him cut to pieces in
his own room." In the *' Relazione,** written afterwards, when perhaps he had
closer infonnattont Cappello says instead, that Caesar had had him strangled by
Don Micheletto. Further on, Sanudo (folio 273) quotes letters of the 23rd and
24th of Augustf in which it is narrated bow the Pope made excuses for Oesar^
alleging that the Duke of Bisceglie wished to kill him.

- P. Cappello, the before-quoted *' Relazione," Sanudo, on the contrary, quotes
letters from Rome, dated 20th of February, 1498. in which it is related that
ricrollo» the waiting man, was found drowned in the Tiber with a faithful
Xtf/, a creaturt of the Pope! "And the reason of this is not known." The
following are Cappello's words in his "Relazione": "And another time he
(VaJcntinoii) killed Mcsscr Pierotto with his own hand, and under the Pope*s
own mantle, so thai the blood splashed in the Pope*s face." The letter of Silvio
Savcllip quoted by Gregorovius (** Gescbichte,** &c, , vol. vii. p. 447), says : •* Ponti-
6ciB cubicularius Perottus in ejus gremis irucidatus/^ Burchardi says that he was
drowned in the Tiber. Possibly he was thrown in already tourdered.

THE BORGIA.

217

grows younger every day ; his anxieties never last through a
night ; he has a cheerful nature and does whatever is most
useful to him,"

On the 28th of September^ as a means of obtaining money, he
made twelve fresh cardinals at once^ six of whom were Spaniards,
thus gaining 120,000 ducats, which were at once given to
Valentinois. With this money ^ the receipts of the jubilee, and
the aid given by the French in addition to his own forces under
the Orsini, Save!li| Baglioni, and Vitelli, he made himself master
of Pesaro, driving out {October, 1500) his former brother-in-law^
Giovanni Sforza ; he next dispossessed Pandolfo Malatesta of
Rimini ; and finally, laid siege to Faenza, whose lord, Astorre
Manfredi, a boy of sixteen^ was so much beloved by bis people,
that the town stood out valiantly, until at last driven by famine
to capitulate on the 25th of April, 1501. It did not surrender
until Caesar Borgia had sworn to spare the townsfolk and save
Manfredi's life ; as usual, be broke his word^ imprisoned Manfredi
in the castle of St. Angelo ; and after subjecting him to the
most loathsome outrages, caused him to be strangled and thrown
into the Tiber on the Qth of June, 1502.'

The Pope next gave Csesar the title of Duke of Romagna, —
Imola, Faenza, Forll^ Rimini, Pesaro, and Fano were already in-
cluded in his dominions, of which Bologna was to be the capital^
and which was afterwards to be extended towards Sinigaglia and
Urbino, in the hope of later annexing Tuscany as well. But for
the present, France placed her veto upon any attempt against
Bologna or Tuscany, which, on their side, were actively pre-
paring for defence. Meanwhile, secret negotiations were going
on between Spain and France, for the division of the kingdom of
Naples between them, and the Pope entered into the arrange-
ments, hoping, with his accustomed greed, to be able to extend
his son*s power in that direction likewise.

' At the time of his deaths Manfiedi was eighteen years of age, Nardi, always
a temperate writer, speaks of this deed with the utmost horror. (*• Storia di
Fircnze*': Fircnze, 1842, vol, 1. pp. 237-384 Guicciardini and many others
also mention it. Burchardi's ** Diario *' tells us that in June the body of Astorre
Manfredi was found in the Tiber with those of two youths, a woniant and several
others. There is a notice of Manfredi's death in a despatch of 6th June, 1503,
from the Venetian arabassadoft Antonio Giustinian. {*' Dispacci di Antonio
■Giustinian," published by P. ViHari : Florence, successors Le Monnier, 1876, in
3 vols,)

2l8

INTRODUCTION.

4, Savonarola and the Republic ok Florknce.

While these events were happening in Rome^ the Borgia hacf
planned another tragedy in Florence, where very grave changes-
had taken place, of which it is now needful to speak/

From the time of Charles VIII. 's Italian expedition^ a Domini*
can friar» prior of St. Mark's convent, and a very remarkable man^
had become almost master of the city. Everything indeed that
was now done was dictated by the counsels he gave from the
pulpit. A native of Ferrara, and coming to Florence during the
rule of the Medicit he had preached against the general de-
pravity of manners, and the corruption of the Church, always
attacking Pope Alexander more or less covertlyi and provdng^
himself to be the champion of liberty. In many respects, he
neither was nor seemed to be a man of his time. Ha\ing na
true classical culture, he detested the Pagan spirit with which all
things were then impregnated. Learned in the Bibki the Holy
Fathers^ and scholastic philosophy, he was animated by the
liveliest religious enthusiasm. Steeped in doctrines, at that time
held in slight esteem, he wrote verses which, if not particularly
well turned, at least were full of Christian ardoun Endowed with
great independence of mind and character, and much good sense^
yet he often spoke as one who was inspired, for he really belie\^d
himself a prophet, sent hy God Almighty to reform the Church
and redeem Italy. The mere fact of being so different from other
men, and of not having the qualities and gifts then universal in
men who lacked precisely those which he possessed, gave this friar
a prodigious ascendency not only over the crowd , but even over
the most cultured minds. Lorenzo dei Medici summoned him to
his death 'bed, beseeching for absolution from his sins ; and thi
absolution Savonarola refused to grant to his country's t>Tant.
Angelo Poliziano, and Pico della Mtrandola, both followers of
that Pagan learning which Savonarola condemned, desired to be
buried in St, Mark's church, shrouded in the Dominican habit*
Many other literary men, and numerous artists, listened spell-
bound to the friar *s utterances.

Carried away hy his imagination, and also by a singular
presentiment, that often seemed to endow him with the gift of

' See my ** Stona di Girolamo Savonarola e dei suoi Icmpi/' in 2 vols, i
Florence, F. le Monnier. 1859-61, Having already treated this subject at lengthy
I may be allowetl to make but brief mention of it here.

SAVONAROLA AND REPUBUC OF FLORENCE. 219

reading the future, not only did he predict the future evils of

Italy in general terms, but he positively prophesied the coming of
foreign armies, led by a new C\tus. And this prophecy appeared
to be miraculously fulfilled in 14Q4, by the descent of Charles
VHI. ; whereupon the friar became altogether the chief man in
Florence, all citizens relying upon him in the most critical
moments. Thus with Piero Capponi, and others, he was sent as
ambassador to the king, after Piero dei Medici had vilely yielded
up everything ; and the king, who had shown great roughness to
all others, humbled himself before him who threatened him with
the divine wrath. When, too, all the terms of the agreement had
been signed in Florence, and the army lodged within the walls
remained stationary, to the great danger of the city, Savonarola
was the only man who dared to present himself before the king;
sternly bidding him depart. And his order was obeyed. There-
fore it is not surprising if, when he set to work to form a new
government, all men turned to the friar, and nothing was any
longer done in Florence, save by the counsel of one, who had not
only given signal proofs of disinterested love for the public
welfare, but, fortunately, also of marvellous political common
sense.

On the and of December the bell of the Palazzo Vecchio rang
out the summons to a general parliament^ and the people hastened
to its call in regular order, led by the Gonfaloniers of the different
Companies. Twenty Accoppiatori were instantly elected for the
nomination of Magistrates, and the arrangement of necessary pro-
posals of reform. Thus, in a short time, the Republic was
established upon a new basis, bringing to life old institutions, not,,
however, without considt:rably modifying them. The Gonfalonier^
with the eight Priori forming the Sign or}', to be renewed every
two months, were preserved ; and so also the Magistracy of the
Eight, which charged with the maintenance of order within the
city, was a tribunal for common offences^ and more especially for
those against the State. The old Magistracy of the Ten for
war affairs was likewise preserved. The Gonfaloniers of the
Companies and the twelve Worthies, a remnant of old institu-
tions composing the so-called Colleges which gave their assistance
to the Signory, without having any real importance, were also
maintained. But serious disputes arose regarding the Councils or
assemblies of the Republic. The Council of SeventVt organ of the
Medicean despotism, was promptly abolished \ but it was founc*

S20

INTROD UCTION.

impossible to reconstitiite those of the people and the Commune,
l)ecause, under the old Republic^ these answered to a state of
things, to a division of the citizens which no longer existed, and
which it was impossible to renew. Discussions therefore began.
A i^yf persons, at whose head was Paolo Antonio Soderinii just
returned from Wnice, positively proposed a Great Council, open
to every citizen, and a less numerous council of Ottimati^
precisely after the pattern of the Great Council, and of the
Pregadi of Venice, But this proposal was combated by those
whoj headed by Guidantonio Vespucci, desired a more restricted
form of governmeni: ; they opposed the institution of the Great
Council, which they said might be useful in Venice, where there
was an aristocracy which alone composed it, but would be most
-dangerous to Florence, where, failing the aristocracy, it would be
necessary to admit citizens of all ranks. Even, according to
Guicciardini, the danger of this great divergence of opinion
consisted in this, that should a narrow form of government
prevail instead of a moderately liberal one, there would ensue, as
a necessary reaction* a government of too democratic a form,
which would endanger the Republic. And it was for that reason
that this great historian and acute politician took the part of
Savonarola,' who, precisely at that time, took up the question
.and rescued everything, by preaching in favour of a universal
government y with a Great Council on the Venetian plan, but
adapted to Florentine needs and customs. The weight of his
words speedily brought about the victory of Soderini's proposal,
.and the friar in consequence obtained so great an ascendency over
the people, that from that moment the discussions in the palace
.and the laws passed frequently seem to be mere copies of his
sermons.

On the 22nd and 23rd December a decree was issued for the
Consiglio Maggiore, to which all citizens were bidden who were
twenty-nine years of age, and were bcnefictatt\ that is to say, who
enjoyed the benefit q/ the Statc^ or, according to the old laws of
the Republic, had the right to govern. Should these exceed the
number of 1,500, then a third of them only, in alternation with
the other thirds, would form a council from six months to six
months.^ The city had at that time about 90,000 inhabitants ;

* As much in his " Storia Fiofcntina," eis in his treatise, ** Dd Reggimento di
Firenzc," published in the *' Opera Inedite.*^

* All this is much more minutely detailed in my ** Sturia di Girolamo
. Savonarola/' lo which I must again refer the rwuler.

^

SdWOMMMOLA JOO^

tbe

It: W3is IS tnis manocf' tsat tnc vasw Rcpittbac vns <
Dhrisiaii of povor biiiig tli« imkiiovii, the sttribnlfli cf die
ittlgBCratCi vd^ €30iisidenbly codiiswL XevertileiesSk wlMSii
a new kw requn^ sanctkxi^ tbe fblkmng wm$ die usual mode of
pnxedoTe : die proposal wms made bf the S^noria* vha ooiaU-^
die matter required It— first call together a so<aIled Btmikm^
oofnpoied of the ooDeso^ the prindpal ma g i s tr at es and the
Armi9^ i£^ ckiieiis selected for that spedal purpose. When thb
raeasttre was cocisida^ unneoessary, appUcatiofi wis made at
once to the £ight>% and then to the Great Council without
farther delay. In the Pratka some discussion of questions look
place, but at the Councils members ga\"e their \"Otc5 without
preliminary debate. The same course was pursued with regard
to matters of weightier import than the passing of laws — declara*
tions of war, for instance, or the conclusion of some treaty
pr^nant with the gravest results.

This novel machinery of government soon began to work
regularly, and Savonarola^ as one of its principal authors^
powerfully promoted other important reforms by means of Xrvs

* According to the law, ihe minimum was ftxcti at 500, so that if tht i
amounted to fewer tlmt) 1,500, tKe>- were not divided into thirds, but IbfQMd tbf
Cuuncil altogether. For this rea«<w the Council Hall, then Iniilt l>y CftkiMca In
the palace of the Signoria, was named the Hah of the Five Hundred.

222

INTHODUCTJON.

preachings from the pulpit. The irregular and arbitrar),^ taxes
upon real property were replaced by tithes (Decima). Parliament
was abolish ed» for that assembly^ having always approved every
measure proposed by the Signoria, had frequently been made the
docile tool of tyranny and change. The Monte di Pieti was
established. A new law was also passed, granting — -in State trials
—a right of appeal from the Eight to the Great Council ; this
was, it must be confessed, a highly imprudent act, inasmuch as
it entrusted the administration of justice to popular feeling.
Savonarola himself was in favour of a more restricted right of
appeal, but on this point he was powerless to restrain the people,
urged on as they were by his personal enemies. These latter
hoped, by means of e.xcesses, to put the Republic in danger, or at
least— as they phrased it — to deliver it from the hands of the
Friar. After-events proved the inexpediency of the law.

Nevertheless at first public business was carried on with suffi-
cient regularity, nor did other disturbances arise, save those
brought about by the war with Pisa, which indeed, not ha\'ing as yet
assumed a very serious character, served to keep the Florentines
from quarrelling among themselves. It is true that the allies sum-
moned Maximilian, King of the Romans, to the aid of the Pisaiis ;
but when they beheld him arrive without an army, they would
give him neither money nor men ; so that he had to return the
way he came, without having achieved anything. But Florence
already held the seeds of a very grave danger, destined to be the
cause of fatal results. With ever-increasing fervour, Savonarola
was urging reformation of manners, and the defence of freedom ;
he suggested many useful measures, and painted the evils of
tyranny in the liveliest colours. But he did not stop here.

He also urged the necessity of reforming the Church, which, as
all men knew and saw, had lapsed into the most abject corruption.
Dogma and even the principle of Papal authority he left un-
touched, for in fact he never ceased to be a Roman Catholic ; but
at last he pointed out the need of a Council, and made allusions
to Pope Alexander's scandalous mode of life. Thereupon the
Pope began to feel serious disquietude at a state of things so novel
for Italy, and dangerous for himself, who, as Piero Capponi had
previously described him, was of a cowardly nature and consctus
criminis suO First of all he sent Savonarola a very graciously

* Vide letters before quoted from Capponi to Piero dci Meclici^ published by
DesjimiiDSt ** N^gociations/' &c., vol. i, p. 393, and fol.

SAVONAROLA AND REPUBLIC OF FLORENCE, 223

worded invitation to Rome, which the Frrar declined to accept.
On this the Pope interdicted him from preaching ; but the Ten
wrote so urgently in his defence, that — ^for fear of worse con-
scquences^ — the brief was revoked. Once more the Pope resorted
to flattery^ and even the possibility of a Cardinal's hat was sug-
gested ; but again the Prior of San Marco refused, and during the
Lent of 1496 thundered louder than ever from his pulpit. He
predicted future calamities, recurred to the question of church
reformi and insisted that Florence must firmly consolidate her
popular government, in order to promote both at home and
abroad the renovation and triumph of religion cleansed of all
corruption.

The matter by this time had assumed such grave proportions,
that, stirred hy conflicting psssions, the eyes of all Italy were
turned upon the courageous Friar. All men were convinced of
the frightful corruption of the Church, and all understood that
notwithstanding the universal and radical religious scepticism of
the Italians, things could not long go on as they were. The precur-
sory symptoms of reform already manifest at Constance, at Basle,
and elsewhere, wxTe too significant to be forgotten. The enthusi*
astic, earnest attention with w^hich flippant, sceptical Florence was
now listening to Savonarola^ inspired in many a confused alarm,
and aroused the fierce rage of Alexander VL He, who had so
easily dismissed prelates and cardinals from the world, now saw
himself personally attacked by a simple friar, without having the
powder to punish him. — -

Still the Pope did not despair of turning aside the threatened '
danger. Savonarola, it is true, w^as a powerful if rough orator ;
he was a man of prodigious activity ■ he wrote an immense num-
ber of works, of pamphlets, of letters ; he gave himself no rest ;
daily and several times a-day, he delivered sermons in different
churches ; his zeal for good was great, his religious enthusiasm
most ardent, his power immense. Yet, as we have already re-
marked, he was not altogether a man of his day ; his culture was
in part scholastic, his enthusiasm frequently verged upon fanati-
cism ; he beheld visions and believed himself a prophet j some-
times he imagined that the Almighty would make use of him to
perform miracles. He was an ardent lover of liberty ; but with
the true monastic spirit, he yearned for it as a means of promo-
ting religious reform. At times, indeed, he seemed determined to
tiirn all Florence into a conventual establishment, which to many

t24

INTRODUCTION.

must have appeared an almost childish illusion. He was sur-
rounded by artists and men of learning, over whom» as over both
people and politicians, he exercised an extraordinary ascendency.
But while loving culture and encouraging the arts, he was a most
bitter enemy of the pagan spirit that then impregnated and cor-
rupted all things. Among his friars, as among his followers out-
side the convent^ were men of lofty character and commanding
energy ; but there were also not a few weak and superstitious
spirits, to exaggerate the ideas of their master, who was not entirely
free from exaggeration himself* The immense power which he
had acquired in Florence through the wisdom of his pohtical advice,
the nobility of his mind, his irresistible eloquence, were more
strengthened by the wonder awakened by the singularity of his
character, than by his success in arousing in Florence a veritable
religious fervour. And it was upon this point that Savonarola
greatly deceived himself, and failed therefore to see that he was in
fact building upon sand \ he desired a free government to promote
religious reform, and the Florentines accepted religious reform,,
only for the better consolidation of a free government. Hence
the base of his power was less solid than it seemed, and the Pope
could not fail to find ways to create new parties and foment
strife.

A considerable number of young men, lovers of the gay living
so much in favour under the Medici, and now held in such bitter
reprobation, banded together under the name of the Compagnacci
(Bad Fellows) for the purf>ose of ridiculing the Friar and his
friends whom they st^'led Piagnoni (Snivellers), Frateschi, &c.,
and of combating them by every means in their power. So in
1497, it came about that while this party made an attempt to
revive the old Medicean carnival with its bacchanalian revels and
indecencies, on the other hand the exhortations of Savonarola and
his followers inspired bands of children to scour the streets and
houses of Florence in search of vanities ^ namely, books, writings,,
drawings, and sculpture of a licentious character ; all carnival
dresses and masks. The 7th of February and last day of carnival,,
was celebrated by a solemn procession, that terminated with the
famous ^wrmV/^q/" M^ ?'(jw/toj^ which were collected together in
the Piarza of the Signoria, and heaped up on the stages of a great
wooden pyramid constructed for the purpose. As was very
natural, this affair gave rise to numerous accusations and much
ridicule on the part of the Compagnacci, although this singular

■

SAVONAROLA AMD REPUBLIC OF FLORENCE. 22 J

¥

^

solemnity not only had the sanction of the chief authorities, but
was almost directed by them, in order that it might be conducted
-with dignity and decorum. Indeed the Campagnacci loudly
blamed the government for taking part in monkish shows. With
•this party sided the Arrabbiati, who desired a more restricted
form of government, that is, one restricted to Ottimati and the
Bigi (Greys), so called, because they did not venture to show their
secret object, which was no less than the pure and simple restora-
tion of the Medici,

As yet none of these intrigues endangered either the Republic
or Savonarola. The Compagnacci were not a political party ; the
Ottimati had few followers in Florence, which had always been a
democratic city ; the Bigi, though with powerful adherents both
at home and abroad, had in Piero dei Medici a leader at once too
hated and despised, to be desired by many. The first attempt he
made to re-enter Florence, where he expected a most favourable
reception, ended in his having the city gate contemptuously closed
in his face. A conspiracy for the same object got up by Bernardo
•del Nero and others, ended in their death. All this, however,
produced a state of things, in which it was easy for Alexander VI.
to find an opportunity for the revenge^ that he had so long and
so ardently sought.

Savonarola daily hurled fresh bolts against Roman licence, daily
he insisted more openly on the necessity of calling together a
council, and daily made allusions from the pulpit to the crimes
and vices of the Pope, Frequently ordered to be silent, he raised
his voice louder and louder. Finally sentence of excommunica-
tion was pronounced against him, and this he declared to be null
and void, adding that he spoke in the name of the Almighty, and
was ready to maintain his own innocence against the whole
world ; that, howeveri he despaired of convincing Alexander VL^
who, having been elected simoniacally, and stained with so many
crimes and scandals, could not be considered as the true Pope.
This was at the time of the murder of the Duke of Gandia, of
the rumour of the Pope's incest with his daughter Lucrezta ; and
Savonarola was w^orked up to a frenzy which he neither would nor
could moderate. He addressed letters to the powers of Europe,
urging them to assemble a Council for the salvation of the Church,
which, as he would publicly demonstrate, had no true and legiti-
miate head. One of these letters unfortunately fell into the hands
of Alexander VL Still more unfortunately, Charles VIII,, who

VOL. L 16

ad6

INTRO D UCTION.

seemed to have repented of his sins and decided to put his hand
to the reforms urged by Savonarola, by whom he was regarded as
his strongest support, died suddenly in the early part of 14^8*
And although all this was not known in Italy, still it was already
plain that all things were conspiring to the hurt of the poor friar.
It was at this moment that an unexpected opportunity occurred
which the Pope unhesitatingly seized.

The Signory then in office was hostile to Savonarola ; continued
encouragement from abroad had increased the audacity of the
Arrabbiati and the Compagnacci^ the Bigi were alivays ready for
anything that meant harm to the Republic, some even of the
Piagnoni were disturbed by the fierceness of the conflict with the
Pope, when a singular occurrence took place, of which no one
could foresee the tremendous results. Francesco di Puglia, a
Franciscan monk, in the course of a furious sermon against Savon-
arola in the Church of Santa Croce, declared himself ready to go
through the ordeal of fire with him and thereby prove the faHty
of the Friar's doctrines.

To Savonarola the affair appeared so strange and unseemlyi
that he disregarded it ; but not so his disciple Brother
Domenko Buonvicini of Pescia, This friar, a man of small wits,
but earnest, energetic and possessed with a burning zeal, accepted
the challenge and unhesitatingly declared his readiness to go
through the trial by fire in order to prove the truth of his master's
doctrines. Francesco di Puglia replied that he had challenged
Savonarola, and with him alone would he enter the fire ; Fri
Domenico must be content to make the trial with GiuHano
RondineiH another Franciscan. The matter unfortunately went
on notwithstanding Savonarola's attempts to put a stop to it ; Fri
Domenico had fallen readily into the trap set for him, and Savon-
arola himself was not entirely disinclined to believe in the success
of the experiment^ convinced as he was of holding a mission from
God and of being inspired by him to preach the doctrine which
were now disputed. The Arrabbiati and the Compagnacci pushed
the matter on with all their might, for they hoped to crush the
Piagnoni by ridicule, and to accomplish the murder of Savonarola
in the tumult for which they were making preparations. They
were helped in this by the Signoria^ now in secret agreement with
Rome.

Accordingly this extraordinary experiment or ordeal — an evident
anachronism in the fifteenth century — was fixed for the 7th of

\
\
I

i

SAVONAROLA AND REPUBLIC OF FLORENCE. 227

^

April, 149%* At the hour arranged, the monks came in procession
to the Piazza in front of the Palace, where everything had been
ordered by the Signoria, and where an immense crowd had
gathered, impatient to witness a spectacle that recalled the Middle
Ages. Savonarola, finally persuaded that Fri Domenico*s fiery
zeal, against which he had vainly combated, was a veritable in-
spiration from on high, had consented to lead his brethren* How-
ever, when all was ready on their side, and Fra Domenico of
Pescia awaited the signal to enter the fire, the Franciscans, whose
only object was to lay a trap for their adversaries, began to hesitate,
and it was plain that Rondinelli had no wish to face the ordeal.
They did everything in their power to excite the wished-for dis-
turbance, but without success, for Frit Domenico stood boldly
forward, eager for the proof, and his attitude discomfited every
adversary. But with their numberless objections and disputes the
Franciscans contrived to waste the whole day, and at last a violent
thunder-shower furnished the Signoria with an excuse for declaring
that the ordeal could no longer take place.

According to all reason this should have completed the defeat
of Savonarola^s enemies ; but instead it had the contrary effect.
The crowd was weary and furious at the loss of the longed-for
spectacle ; and many laid the blame on Savonarola^ saying that
had he really been convinced of his divine mission, he would,
without arguments, have entered the fire alone, and thus have
silenced his adversaries for ever. His followers consisted chiefly
either of devoted fanatics, or politicians who only regarded him as
the champion of free government. The first regretted that the
trial had not been made, the second deplored Savonarola's consent
to it ; thus there was universal discontent. In this way it became
possible for the Arrabbiati and the Compagnacci, seconded by the
Bigi and favoured by the Signoria, to excite the people against the
Piagnoni, some of whom were killed or wounded in the streets,
and others insulted on all sides. And now the reaction had set in.
A furious mob attacked the convent of St Mark, which in spite of
the valiant resistance of some of the brethren, assisted by a small
band of friends, was stormed and taken. Savonarola, his faithful
companion Fr^ Domenico, and Fra Stlvestro Maruffi, one of his
most noted followers, but a mere visionary of the feeblest character,
were carried to prison to await their trial*

The Pope would have paid any price to get the Friar into his
Jhands, and made the most liberal offers j but the Signoriai although

32S

INTROD UCTION,

composed of Arrabbiad most ready to agree to his deathi could
not reconcile it with the dignity of the Republic that the trial
should take place elsewhere. In Florence, however, it was carried
on in obedience to the orders and instructions received from Rome^
torture was repeatedly employed, and confessions extorted from
the delirium of pain. While on the rack Savonarola could na
longer command his nerves, and had not the strength to maintaLn
that his doctrines and his works had been inspired by God, yet he
steadfastly denied ever having been moved by any personal motives
or of acting in bad faith ; on the contrary, he maintained that aU
that he had done had been solely and wholly for the public good.
To this we may add that although the weak, unstable Fri Sil*
vestro gave way at once, denied his master, and said everything
that his judges wished him to say; Fr4 Domenico, on the contrary,
unconquered either by threats or torture, remained nobly con-
sistentj unshrinkingly proclaiming his steadiest faith in his beloved
master. Recourse was accordingly had to the common and easy
expedient of altering as much as possible the very confessions
extorted in the torture chamber, without however being able even
in this way to find reasonable grounds for condemnation.

Meanwhile the Pope was sending furious letters demanding
either that the Friars should be sent to Rome where he w^ould
know how to deal with them, or that they should be put to death
without further delay. In fact the Signoria had neither will nor
power to abandon its cruel purpose. As, however^ two months
had already passed, and it was time, according to the Florentine
laws, for a new Signoria to come into office, the present one
employed itself solely in providing that the new elections should
be favourable to the Arrabbiati ; and this was easily contrived.
The freshly elected magistrates speedily agreed with the Pope, that
he should send two Apostolic Commissioners to Florence to bnug
the trial to a satisfactory conclusion ; finding grounds that is, for
capital punishment, more especially as regarded the accusal of
heresy. Savonarola in the meantime, during this interval of quiet
in his prison, had written several religious pamphlets, in which ^
while re-asserting all his doctrines he once more declared himself
to be in all things^ as he had ever been, a most faithful and un-
shaken believer in the Roman Catholic faith. But that mattered
nothing ; his death had been resolved upon.

On the 19th of May the Apostolic Commissioners arrived with
the order that were he another St. John the Bafitist he must be

SAVONAROLA AND REPUBLIC OF FLORENCE. 229

I

•condemned to death. They began the mock trial again, torturing
Savonarola even more cruelly than at first. And although, not*
withstanding his bodily weakness, he now endured the agony
better than before, and no good reason could be found for con-
demning him, yet without delay the Commissioners sentenced him
and his companions to death, and handed them over to the secular
arm, showing no mercy even to Maruffi, who had vilely slandered
Jind denied his master, making every admission that was suggested
to him. A friar more or less mattered little, they said. And
certainly there would have been little prudence in sparing the
life of so weak and shallow a man, who later might have revealed,
even unwittingly, the shameless falsification of the trials. Accor-
dingly, on the 23rd of May, 14^^^, a great platform was erected in
the piazza of the Signoria, with a cross at one end on which the
three friars were hung ; Savonarola in the middle, between the
other two. The instant they had breathed their last, their corpses
were burnt, and their ashes thrown into the Arno, in the presence
of an applauding rabble of boys.

Throughout this drama there was a strange mixture of ele-
ments ; of the really heroic with the merely ephemeral. The
faith of Savonarola, his zeal for the general good, his self-abnega-
tion, were simply heroic ; mighty was his eloquence, wondedul
his political wisdom ; merely ephemeral, on the other hand, the
religious ardour which he believed that he had aroused in the
Florentine people. In point of fact they had only been stirred to
a love of liberty, and had listened with enthusiasm to the religious
teachings of the Friar as long as these continued to give strength
to the popular government. But as soon as they beheld in him
a source of danger to the Republic, they had little hesitation in
giving him up to the Pope. And certainly, no sooner had the
unhappy Friar ceased to breathe, than all the dangers which had
from all sides recently threatened the government which he had
founded, seemed suddenly to melt away. The allies spoke no
more of re-instating Piero dei Medici ; the Pope, in high good
humour, sent praises and held out hopes ; Valentinois seemed to
have renounced all idea of invading Tuscany, and Florence hoped
to be able to turn all her attention to the war against Pisa,
without having to think of other matters.

It was not long before she saw the vanity of these hopes^ and
that much more was needed to satiate the unquenchable avidity
of the Borgia. But there was no longer any remedy. She could

Lrfifcdfa

ts<^

INTRODUCTION.

only repent having stifled the one voice that was ever raised in
defence of her liberty ; of having unjustly, iniquitously destroyed
a man who had done so much good, and would have done so
much more to the cause of Florence, of liberty, of religion. To
many his death rendered him a saint and a martyr, and for more
than a centur)' his memory was admired and worshipped by numbers
in Florence^ who, during subsequent perils of their country,
showed themselves worthy followers of their master, and shed the
glow of their heroism over the last moments of the Republic,
However, that was In the future ; in the May of 1498 the
Arrabbiati were triumphant, although they did not dare to change
the form of government planned by Savonarola. On the con-
trary, it was consolidated. Still the Piagnoni continued to be
persecuted, and many of them were driven out of whatever oflfices
they held to make room for their declared adversaries and new
men. At this moment a personage appeared upon the scene, and
obtained official employ^ who was certainly greater than Sav^ona*
rola, if of a very- different order of greatness. To him we must
now turn our undivided attention.

BOOK THE FIRST.

PROM THE BIRTH OF NICC0L6 MACHIAVELLI TO HIS DISMISSAL
FROM THE OFFICE OF SECRETARY OF THE TEN.

(1469-1512.)

ICC0L6 MACHIAVELLI makes his first ap-
pearance in history in the year 14Q8, the
twenty-ninth of his age. At that period the
storm was already gathering which a few
months later brought Savonarola to the scaf-
fold. The Signoria was hostile to the Friar ;
the sentence of excommunication against him
had already reached Florence. For the prevention of scandal, he
had ordered his faithful disciple, Fri Domenico of Pescia, to
preach in San Lorenzo to the women, while he himself had left
the Duomo, and retired to San Marco, where he delivered his
sermons to male hearers only. It was there that Alachiavelli
came to hear two sermonsi of which he sent details to a friend in
Rome, in a letter dated the 8th of March of the same year. In
this we already find certain noteworthy characteristics of an intel-
lect not merely different from, hut opposed to, that of Savonarola.
He could not understand that there was anjlhing great or noble
in the Friar. He listened with a smile of irony and scorn to the
strange words of the man whom he afterwards described as the
-ueaponiess prophet. He heard him slashing at '' your books, oh
priests, and treating you in a way that even dogs would not sub-
mit to ; *' he heard him say of the Pope ** everything that can be
said of any great villain ;'' as it appeared to him '* this Friar is

234

MACHlAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES,

colouring his lies to suit the times ; *' ' but he failed to comprehend
how he had gained so great a power in Florence, nor how the
affair would end, wherefore he besought his friend to enlighten
him upon the subject if possible. What manner of man, then^
was this who remained a cold inquirer in the midst of these
seething popular passions ? Remembering the no inconsiderable
part that he played in after-years in the affairs of his Republic*
and his very^ considerable part in the history of modem thought^
the smallest particulars of his youth and his studies would be very
precious. But the early years of MachiavelU remain, perhaps
always will remain^ involved in obscurity. He is seldom men-
tioned by his contemporaries, and after his death none of his
friends or acquaintances thought of writing his life. And he, con-
tinually occupied in the obser\'ation of contemporary men and
events, never refers to himself, never alludes to his own past. As
a man^ as an individual character, he does not appear to have
exercised much influence upon those about him ; his actions were
either of little importance or excited little remark. Even his-"
prodigious business activity was chiefly of the pen ; it may be said
that his life was nearly all in his writings, although he went
through many and varied experiences. In this he is very different
from Guicciardini, whom he resembles in many other respects.
The latter, in fact, having attained to an elevated office, made his
power and personal authority \^ry clearly felt. Assailed by many
contemporaries, he defended himself in his " Apologia/^ in his
**Ricordi Biografici/^ and in other writings^ in which he often
speaks at length of himself Howe%*er, we shall now try to put
together all the information we have been able to collect relating
to Machiavelli's family and early life. Unfortunately it is ex-
tremely scanty;

Machia%*elli came of a very old Tuscan family, originally orJ
Montespcrtolip a small commune, situated between the Val d*Elsa
and the Val di Pesa, at a short distance from Florence, In their
family records — '*Ouaderno di ricordanze/' some of which are still
to be found in the libraries of Florence^ — we read that the Machia-

* This letter, the second in every edition of Machiav'elU's Works, bears the
date of the Sth of March, 1497* It is, however, well known that, down to the
middle of the last centurj', the Florentines dated ihe year ah imamathnt^ that is,
beginning it on the 25th of March* The first letteri to which we shall refer later^
is followed in the *' Opere " by a Latin fragment, not generally numbered. In atl
quotations from the " Opere, '* the reader w ill understand that we refer to the
Italian edition of iSiJ^ unless another be specially indicated.

BIRTH AND EARL V STUDIES OF MACHIA VELLL 235

velli were allies of the lords of Montespertoli^ and positively
descended from the same stock. According to these ricordanze^
about the year 1120 a certain Buoninsegna, son of Dono dei
Machiavelli^ was the father of two sons^ Castellano and Dono,
From the former ivere descended the Castellanii lords of Monte-
spertoli ; from the latter those who bore the name of Machia\ elli.
A spread eagle, field azure^ was the arms of the first ; that of the
second a cross azure, field argent, with four nails, likewise azure, at
the four comers of the cross. In 1393 Ciango dei Castellan i of
Montespertoli bequeathed to Buoninsegna and I^orenzo, children
of Filippo Machiavelli, the celebrated author^s great -great-grand*
father, the castle of Montespertoli, with rights of patronage ov^er
many churches. This inheritance, though of little value — feudal
rights being then abolished — brought the Machiavelli certain
privileges, as, for instance, the monopoly of the public scales and
measures, a yearly offering of wax candles, and the permission to
affix their arms to the well on the market-place which now bears
their name. The property itself was of no great \alue, and was
di'vided among the many branches of the numerous family* Very
little, therefore^ came into the hands of Niccol6 Machiavelli 's
father, whose own lands were in the neighbouring commune of
San Casciano. But he still preserved certain barren rights upon
the castle, and rights of patronage over various churches, belong-
ing in part to the Montespertoli inheritance,' The Machiavelli
also possessed houses in the quarter of Sto. Spirito, near Santa
Felicitil and the Ponte Vecchio in Florence, where they had long
been established, and were among the most notable of the popo-
lam'^ Indeed, we find them among those who had to go into

• The house in which Machiavelli lived and died ts the present No. l6, Via
Guicciardini, Florence,

* In ihe MaruccUmna Library in Florence (Cod, 229, A. lo)^ is the *' Qua*
demo/' or Book of Records of Ristoro, son of Lorenzo^ who was the son of
Niccolo Machiavelli* This Niccolo, who was the son of Alessandro, was several
times member of the Signoria and of the Ten, and was a conieni|x>rary of the
great writer, but of another branch of the family. The two have occasionally
been confused with each other, and therehy many mistakes have arisen. Ristoro*s
Book of Records begins on ihc 1st of September, 1538, and contains, besides
family accounts, several important notices, part of which arc copied from the most
ancient of the family recortU. Thus, there are notes written by Lorenio Machia-
velli, and others stitl older, extracted from a ** Record '* by Bernardo, son of
NiccoI6 Machiavelli, written in the year 1460. And it is in this Record thai the
father of our Machiavelli, nine years before the birth of his son, notes down the
fa^mily genealog)'. Part of these records are corroborated by Giuliano dei Ricci in
his ** Priorista," a manuscript in which he frequently speaks of the Machiavelli

.^

s^ MACHIA VELLTS LIFE AND TIMES.

«ule hn ir6o.= afttr the defeat at Montapcrto. Bat they soon
rttuiTjfed to Fl^/rtzict with the other Guelj^s. and are fneqncntiy
voicmyjni^ in the hiKton- of the Repablic in whose gorcnunciit
th«r>' fhartxL being able to boast of a large number of priors and
g<«ifaloaiert.*

Bernardo, ion of Xiocok> Machiavelli, bom in 1428. was a juris-
conwlt- and filled for some time the office of treasurer in the
Marcau^ in 1450 he inherited the property of his mide Totto, soo
<^ Buoninsegna Machiavelli.^ In 145S he married Bartolommca,

faniijr, Vj wbom be wv rdaied. < Vtde in the Naisooal USaarj ai FloRBoe the
*• FrioriiiUL,** ly GinliaDO dd Ricd : Qoaitiere Santo Spiiito, Sesto d*OltmiKH
MadtibveUL)

The brand] to whidi oor MaduardH bekoged wis cxiin g nidiff d in the be-
finning U the icrcntecDth centniy by the «ieatli of Ippotita^dug^iter of Akminilni*
whtfj va* the KID of Bernardo, Niccdo's third son. >Ianied in 1606 to Pkr
francetcodei Ricd, the died in 1613. Bacdiia, the dangfatcr of Niooolo Ifadiii-
-wtSlL, had married Gicnranni dd Ricd, and tbns was mother of Ginliano dd Ricd*
author of the " PrioriKta,** and crJlector of manj memorials and papers ooooemiaf
hi* Ulttttrions anoeitor. (Vide Bakklli, " Ekgio di Niooolb Madiiavdli,'' Loodoa,
1794, pp. &6, IS17.) Aorxher Uandi of the MadiiaveUi was eztingnidied ia
Fkirenoe, in the year 1727, by the death of Francesco Maria dd MmdmwtBL
The inheritance paMed to the Rangoni of Modcna, who for that reason bore the
name cf Rangooi'MaduavellL

0;*ant Paiierini, first in his notes to Ademollo's romance, "Marietta dd Rioci«"
and then in the essay prefixed to the new edition of Maduarelli's " Opcre " {roL
i. : yi'AtDctf Cenniniana Press, 1873), asserts that Machiavelli's consanguinity with
Oit: lord* lA Monte>.pcrtoli was a fable invented in the days of the Prindpaliiy, in
order to flatter the ambition of the Machiavelli, who were then powerful. But, as
i» clear, the drcumstance is of much older origin.

See al«o the " Monografia storica e statistica del Commune di MontespertoHv
c'/mpilau dall Aw. Marccllo Nardi-Dei," Florence, Co-operative Press, 1873.
Among other noticeK, at \). 21, a document is quoted proving that on the exttnc-
ti'^n, tr/wardh the end of the fourteenth century, of the seigneurial family of the
h/rds of Montespertoli, liy the decease of Ciango d*Agnolo, he named as his heiis
/rtf indiviso Ijorcnit) and Buoninsegna, children of Filippo Machiavelli.

» (^iovanni Villani (** Cronica," vol. i. book viii. chap. 80, Florence, Coeii«
1847), in giving the list of those then sent into exile, places the Machiavdfi
"among the popolani of the said Sesto (Oltramo), notable houses." The same
jiotice is to W found in Ammirato, ** Delle famiglie nobili 6orentine '* (Florencey
1615), at p. 12, *• Famiglia Soderini."

» G. Baldelli, " Elogio," &c., in note 6, at pp. 86, 87, tells us that the Machia-
velli had twelve gc»nfaloniers and fifty priors. Ricci, in his " Priorista," enume-
ralCH fifty-seven priors ; but it must be observed that here several names are found
repeated over and over again, even in the same year.

1 Vide Baldelli, ** Elogio," &c., and the ''Life" prefixed to MachiavelU's
"Works in the Florence edition of 1782.

* Vide the ** Libro di Kicordanze," by Kistoro Machiavelli, from which we
have already quoted.

BIRTH AND EARLY STUDIES OF MAC HI A VELLL 237

k widow of NiccoI5 Bennizzi^ and daughter of Stefano dei Nellie of
old Florentine family. It cannot be supposed that this marriage
I increased his personal property^ for in those days women brought

kvery scanty dowers. However that may be» in the Catasto of
1498, his income — all of wAh, as we shall see later, passed to his
son Niccolo in 1 5 1 1 , ace J&ing to a stipulated agreement'^ was
valued at no broad florinFand 14 pence/ so that, if not a wealthy,
neither was he a poor man. It is impossible to make a perfectly
exact calculation \ but considering the much higher value of gold
in those days^ we may venture^ without being far from the truth,
to estimate this income as about equal to four or ^\q thousand
francs ^ of our present currency. Bernardo was a studious man,
and Bartolomniea a pious woman, evidently of some culture* since
she composed certain religious verses and hymns to the Blessed
Virgin, dedicated, as we find it asserted, to her son Niccolu.3
Four children u*ere the issue of this marriage : Totto, Niccolo,
Primeranaj and Gine%Ta. The elder daughter was married to
Messer Francesco Vernacci, the second to Messer Bernardo
Minerbetti, It is not known if the elder son Totto, born in 1463^
ever married, and he soon fell into obscurity, Niccolo, on the
contrary, born the 3rd of May^ ^4^9, speedily, as we shall see,
became the most influential member of the family, by reason of
his acquirements, as well as of his natural ability. The death of
Machiavelli's mother took place on the 11th of October, 1496,
yet, not even touching this — one of the most serious events in a
man*s life — do we find a stngle word to enlighten us as to what he

* Equal to 132 sealed fiorins, 1 6 soldi, ami lo denarl, the which sum paid a tax
or decima of it florins, ! soldo, 5 denari. Vide the two documents published by
Passerini in the first volume of the ** O^iere di M, Machiavelli/* f|uoted abovci
pp. Iviii and Ix. This etUtion was commenced by Si^i. Passerini and Fanfani
in 1865. Si^or Fanfani having withdrawn^ Signor Gaetano Milanesi replaced
him, and with Passerini 's collaboration has already brought out five volumes.
Henceforth, for the sake of brevity, we shall quote this edition as follows —
*-Opere"(P* M.),

* The florin of ordinary gold, .somewhat smaller than the broad florin, had the
same value and same amount of alloy as the more modern zecchin. Estimating:
"this at 12 Italian livres, and admitting that gold at that time had four times its

present value, a much higher figure would be reached. This, however, is almost
a chance calculation, since it is well known how much even the most careful
writers differ as to the relative value of gold in our lime and in the fifteenth
century. \

' *• Discorso del Senatore O. B» Nelli, con la vita del medesimo," Floi^^nce,
Paperini and Co., 1753, p. 8, The Nelli library seems to have been divided amang
the heirs*

238

MACHIAVElirS LIFE AND TIMES.

felt on the occasion. AU is entirely hidden from us. At that
^jme he was already twenty-six years of age, yet up to that period
we have not a single line from his pen, nor a single word from
other writer^, giving any information about him.'

The very first words we have from his pen consist of one letter
in Italian, and a fragment of another in Latin, both written in the
December of 14Q71' both upon the same subject. From the days
of Pope John XXni^ the Machiavelli had had in their gift the
living of Santa Maria della Fagna^ in the Mugello. The Pazzi
were now trying to usurp this right, and therefore the Machiavelli
family, although Bernardo was still living, commissioned his son
Niccold to petition for their common rights. Thus we have the
two letters ** to a Roman prelate^^ who was probably Cardinal of
Perugia, since it was to him that the Republican Government
wrote urgently upon the same subject*3 In these letters, Machia-
velli, with much acumen, much flattery, and many promises to the
prelate^ asserts in grandiloquent language the just rights which the
MiiciaveUorum familia had charged him to defend, and which, in
fact, were ultimately triumphant.

In this way two things are clearly proved to us — 1st, that
Niccolo then knew and wrote the Latin tongue, a fact which some
. had considered doubtful \ 2nd, that all the Machiavelli held him
in high esteem since they chose him for their representative and
defender. Among the scanty and often contradictory notices
which have come down to us, it is quite necessary to dwell upon

' There is a small frsigment from Machiavelli 's }^n of a very free translation of
the ** Historia pcrsecutionis vandalicae " of Viltore Viiense. Passerini, without
giving any proofs, states that it was written before 1494 ; but nothing being known
about it, it Tj>ay be attributed to any year, antl, from its style, may be believed lo
be a youthful production. The Ricci manuscript, to which we shall refer lateif
and which comprises many writings by^ and relating tO| Machiavelli, contains a
** Risposta fatta ad uno ambaiicialorc pel re di Francia/' dated 1495, and by some
aUribuled, with no reason » to Machiavelli. Machiavelli was in the habit of
collecting documents of all kinds for Itis studies^ especially for bis ** Storie," and
Ricci copied and preserved them. Hence one inust be cautious of attributing all
these lo Machiavelli.

=' They are the first of Machiavelli's pubbshed letters. Among the '* Machia*
veMi Papers," preserved in the Florence Nationul Library in six cases, there is a
letter speaking of another /«z/ri?«ii/^ of the family^ but unsigned, and» although in
Niccolo's hand, speaking of him as of a third person* Vidi Appendix, docu-
ment i.

» This is proved l>y a document quoted by Nitti, '* Machiavelli nclla vita c ncUc
opcre" : Naples^ 1876, vol. i. p. 39* This Cardinal of Perugia must have been
'Giovanni L>opez, a Spaniard.

BIRTH AND EARL V STUDIES OF MAC HI A VELLL 239

those which are uodoubtedly authentic. It is certainly no matter
for astonishment that a man^ so singularly gifted by nature, should
have already possessed a satisfactory amount of literary instruction ;
especially, too, when we remember that he came of a family
deficient neither in means nor in culture ; that he had passed his
youth under the rule of Lorenzo the Magnificent, when schools
and public university lectures abounded, when Italian and Latin
hterature could be learnt almost unconsciously » even in daily con-
versation, and reminiscences of antiquity were in the X'^ry air
which men breathed- It would have been strange indeed if^ as
some have pretended, on the faith of Giovio^s little trustworthy
assertions^ Machiavelli had been at that time utterly wanting in
culture, only acquiring later from Marcello Virgilio Adriani all
that he introduced into his works of Greek or Latin authors.^
But, on the other hand, although Machiavelli was already a fair
scholar in his youth, and, as time went on, made much progress
in the classics, and gained not a little by his intimacy with Mar-
cello Virgilio, we cannot believe the assertions of those who
credit him with profound learning and Grecian scholarship,^'
Whether he knew or did not know the elements of Greek, can
neither be affirmed nor denied, and it is a point of no importance.
It is certain that he diligently studied translations of Greek authors,
and made use of them in his writings ; but of his ability to read
them in the original— a point which it would certainly be very
desirable to know — we have no satisfactory proofs whatever.
Amid his numerous Latin quotations, we never meet with one in
Greek ; we have some translations of his from the Latin, but not
a single page purporting to be translated from the Greeks nor does
he ever mention hav^ing read a single author in that tongue.
Besides, it is certain that his contemporaries did not rank him

' Giovio's brief ** Elo^o ** begins thus — ** Quis non miretur in hoc Macciavello
tantum valuisse naiuram, ut in nulla vd cerii fmdic^ri hUiftarum Hierarum
cogmiiotu^ ad justam tecte scribendi facultateni pcrvenire potuerit . . . ? ** And
foithcf on — *' Constat eum, sicuti ips« nobis fatebatur, a Marcello Virgilio, cuius
et notarius et assecla publici muneris fuit, graecae alque latinae linguae flores
accepisse quos scripiis suis insereret,** (** Elc^ia doctorum virurum/' auctore Paulo
Jovio : Antuerpiae, 1557. pp- 192-93.) These very inexact assertions* too common
in Gioviot were the origin of those aflerwards repeated by many other writers,

* ** He knew Greek and Latin perfectly," says Passerini at p. xi of the
'* Di&corso/' prefixed lo the *' Opere ** (P. M.) ; but he makes the assertion with-
out proving it, and without alluding to the disputes of noted authors on the
subject.

340

MACHIAVELLIS LIFE AND TIMES.

among the men of learning ; Varchi indeed speaks of him as one
" rather not without letters, than lettered." * Giuliano del Ricci
a descendant of Niccol5 on his mother's side, and who collected all
obtainable information about him, combated Gio\io*s assertion by
proving that his illustrious ancestor was really acquainted with
Latin, without, however^ saying a word as to Greek.^ In short,.
from all that we know with certainty, it may be concluded that
Niccold Machiavelli received in his youth the ordinary literary
education of his day, by no means that of a man of learnings and
that his wide knowledge of Greek authors was gained from trans-
lations ; neither would it appear that he had gone very far in the
study of law, of which, however, he had evidently some know-
ledge.3

* **Storiadi Firciue" : Ftorence, Pazzi, 1851. vol. i. p. 266,

' Giuliano dei Ricci, in ihe manuscript already quoted (and of which there are
two copies in the Florence National Librar)')^ observer that there is no foundation
for Giovio^s remarks ; that Machiavelli was never the notary of Marcello VirgiUo,
but secretary to the Ten ; that the fragment tjf the Latin letter written by him in
Dccemljcr, 1497, proves his Itnowledjje of Latin. That fragment, Ricci tells U5»
is only the eighth part of the whole, the re^n having been lost through the tearing
of the sheet. At that period Niccolo Machiavelli " had hardly begun to know,
much less to be intimate with V'irgiUo/* Vide the MS. market! No. 692, among
the' Palatine MSS., pp. S-10, Both copies of this MS* seem to l>e by the same
hand. At the end of one of Ihem is written, ** The present volume has been
copied by me, Marco Martini, in this year 1726. from the copy of the Abbe Corso
dei Ricci. The whole copy was made by GiuHano dei Ricci from the original
papers of Niccolt> Machiavelli, and this copy by Rosso Antonio Martini has been
collated with the above-mentioned copy of Giuliano dei Ricci/' The same words
are to be seen in the other copy, but partially scratchetl out.

1 Thus much at least may be presumed from his relations having entrusted him
with the defence of their right !> concerning Santa Maria della Fagna» and fr<jm
some other business of a similar nature which he took in hand long afterwards.
His father might have early initiated him in these studies, concerning which, how-
cver^ no mention is to be found in Machiavelli s works,

Gervinus, in his work, *' Flore nlinische Historiographie,*' before quoted by us»
indulges in long and somewhat exaggeraled reflections on ihe injury to Machia*
velli's studies and even to his genius, resulting, in his opinion, from the great writer's
ignorance of the Greek language and literature. On the other hand, Professor
Triantafdlisj first in his work entitled ** Niccolo ^tachiavelli and the Greek -Authors "
{Vcnice» 1^75), and shortly after in another on Machiavelli's ** Vila di Castruccio
Castracant*" published in the " Archivio Veneto," believes to have triumphantly
proved that ft!achiavelli understood Greek, and studied t^reek authors in the
original. These two works certainly show that the Florcniine Secretary made
great use of those writers; but, in our opinion, are not sufficient proof that his
Greek studies were carried on in the original language instead of in translations*.
The error of Professor Triantafillis lay in believing it sufficient to consult Hofi-
q's '* Lexicon Bibliographicum/' and when in this he finds no mention of a

BIRTH AND EARL V STUDIES OF MA CHIA VELLL 241

He acquired all else later in life by priv^ate reading, by medita*
tion, and above all by practical experience and knowledge of
mankind. His comparatively restricted culture must doubtless
have been a drawback to him * but it also had the inestimable •
advantage of preserving the spontaneous originality of his genius
and his style, and preventing them from being sufiTtKiated, as
frequently happened at that period, beneath a dead w^eight of
erudition.

And even his ardent enthusiasm for the ancient s, and especially
for the Romans, rather reminds us of that of Cola di Rien^o and
Stefano Porcaro, than of that of a man of learning, pure and
simple. Living too in that age of letters, ftne arts, conspiracies^
papal scandals, and foreign invasionS| he did not dwell alone with
his books, but in continual conversation and meditation on the
events going on so swiftly around him. And among these events,
it is certain that the coming of the French in 1494 must have
made a very deep and painful impression upon him, an impression
mitigated only partially by the expulsion of the Medici, and the
proclamation of the Republic in Florence. For, w'ith his pagan

translation of some author known to have existed in Machiavelli's Ume, and of
which the latter availed himself, he takes it for granted that no such translation
existed, and that the author was studied in the original. It is dear that no certain
result's can be obtained by this method^ since in that century numerous translations
were made, which were unpublished and even unknown. In fact, of some of the
authors of which TriantalilHs believes no translations to have been made at that
period, several exist in the Florence libraries, and nothing forbifls ua to think that
Machinvelli may have made use of these and of others unknown to us. , Professor
Triantafillis also endeavours to prove at length that the dialogue '' Dell*ira o dei
modi di curarla " is almost alranslalion from i'lutarch, without at all endeavouring
to ascertain if there be any foundation for the opinion of those w^riters who affirmed
that the work was not by Machiavelli. Neither does he seem to be aware that
there is in the Laurentian Library an ancient translation of this very pamphlet of
Plutarch's, attributed to Colluccio Salulati, and of which Machiavelli might have
availed himself-

Therefore, Professor Triantafillis' two works* however praiseworthy in other
respects, in nowise alter the state of the question, and <to nut change our own
opinion, which is also that most generally approved. We may add that Ricci in
his ** Priorista ** tells us that Machiavelli coinp:Jsed a treatise in the forai of a
comedy entitled '*Le Maschere/' which was afterwards lost. In this, continues
Ricci, the author, incited by M. Virgilio, imitated ** The Clouds" and ulher
comedies of j^Vristophancs, and made it a vehicle for bitter satire on many of his
contemp<:trarie3. This fact might be adduced in favour of the opposite argnmcnl
to that maintained by us ; but even this would be a very weak argument, since ii
would refer to a generical imitation, which might have been grounded on the
spoken or written commentajries of M, Virgilio himself or some other professor of
the university,

vou I. 17

242

MACNIAVELLI'S LIFE AND TIMES.

* reminiscences and sympathies, and his most profound aversion for
everything savouring of priesthood or monkery, he could not
reconcile himself to the circumstance of the Repubhc being ruled
by the eloquence of a friar^ and his inchnatiuns bent towards the
friar-s ejiecutioners. Later in his writings we meet with some
expressions of admiration for Savonarola^ but these expressions
are not entirely free from irony. When the friar^s ashes were cast
into the Arno, and the Piagnoni were objects of persecution,
matters were more congenial to his ideas. Then, as was natural,
many changes took place in the public offices, and Machiavelli,
who at twenty-nine was still without a profession and without an
income of his own, set about seeking for an occupation that would
bring him fair remuneration for his work. He cannot have had
much difficulty, since his views were not too ambitious, and the
Republic had long been accustomed to employ men of letters in
salaried posts, especially as secretaries.

The chief secretary-s office was that of the Signory, at the head
of which was the official properly known as the Secretary, or
Chancellor of the Republic. This was a very honourable office,
entrusted to men like Poggio Bracciolinii Leonardo Aretino, and
so on. Then came the second Chancery, that of the Ten, which
although having an importance of its own, was dependent to a
certain extent upon the first. The Ten combined the functions of

i-.a War Office, and in part of Ministry for Home affairs, and conse-
quently had an enormous amount of business to transact. It was
also theft duty to despatch ambassadors to foreign countries, and
to keep up a correspondence with them ; but in these matters
they worked in conjunction with or rather subordinated to the
Signory. Thus the second Chancery was often at the orders of the
first, and when, as frequently happened, the Ten were not elected,
then the two chanceries were almost fused together under the
direction of the iirst secretary.*

^ This much is ascerlained from the examination of vhe registers of the Republic
in the Floreniine Archives. The missions and instructions to ambassadors from
1499 to 1512 are sometimes in the name of the Signory, sometimes of the Ten, or
even occasionally of both (Florence Archives, class x. department i. No. 105).
The Ten were often delegatt-d to reply to letters addressed to the Signoria.
According to the statute of 1415 (printwJ in 1781, and dated from Fribourg, vol.
ii. p. 25, and foh)> the Ten have the power of nominating syndics, procurators,
ambassadors^ secretaries, &c. They have^ however, no power to ap(x>int ambassa*
dors to the Pope or emperor, or to a king or cjueen, without the consent of the
priors and colleges.

HIS ELECTION AS SECRETARY TO THE TEN. 245

^

Towards the end of 1497 the death occurred of Bartolommeo
Scala, a celebrated man of learning, long secretary of the
Republic, and Marcello Virgilio Adrian! was nominated in his
stead in the February of 1498, with a yearly stipend of 330
:florins.' Shortly afterwards, Alessandro Braccesij another secre-
tary of the Signoria, hut placed in the second Chancery^ was
dismissed from office, and it was then that four names were put
to the vote, first in the Council of Eighty, and four days later —
that is on the 19th June — in the great Council, Among these
names we find that of Niccol5, son of Bernardo Machiavelli \ he
it was who gained the greater number of votes, and was elected
with the yearly stipend of mi florins.* On the 14th of July in
the same year^ his nomination was confirmed by the Signory, and
lie was transferred to the second Chancery, at the head of which
he remained until the downfall of the Republican Government in
^ 1512. This promotion must have increased his stipend to 200

^H ' ** Bai tolomet Scab? CoHensis, Vita," auclore Dominico Maria Mannio :
r Plorenti5e» 1768.

Passerini in his ** Discorso ^* at page xii, "Opere" (P. M.), affirms that
I Machiavelli, ** ilesiriag of entering into his country's service, placerl himself,
about 1494, under the direction of Marcello Virgilio Adriani, in the second
Chancery of the C^Dmmune.'* But we do not know where he could have dis-
covered thai Machiavelli and Marcello Virgilio were already in office l»efore 1498,
and neither does be quote any authority.
I It is true that by a deliberation of 28th December, 1494 (** Deliberazione dei

I Signori,** reg. 86, a, c., 120), it would seem that then, on the formation of a new

^H governments Bartolommeo Scala and others received their dismi^isal. But on the
^H jrst December the priors ** attmta ca|>f»atione facia i^rdktos Dominos de domino
^H Bart. Sch., et aitenta necessitate Palatii et negotiis eiusdem/' re-elect him chan-
^B cellor of the first Chancery, together wiih Pietro Beccanugi, who had replaced
^^ him* And thus he remained in office until 1497, as Manni loo affirms in hi«
I *' Life '* of him. And in the reforms of the Chancery* passed In the Great Council

-on the 13th February, 149S (new style), it is decreed that the first chancellor, the
po«t held by Bartolommeo Schale, ** should have a salary of 330 florins, and a
little further on the decree mentions the secretaries of the Signoria, and alhides
to the secretaryship,** in which Aleiisandro Braccesi has served. ** Braccesi in
fact had just then l)een dismissed." {** Provvkioni/' reg. 187, sheets 56^58.)

^ The act of Machiavelli*s nomination has frequently been published, but
always with some omissions. Recently it has been republished by Passerini, in
tlie volume before quoted, page Hx ; but here two documents have been turned
into one, through the omission, at the beginning of the second paragraph, of the
<<iate« Die xviiii, mentis junii^ by which it appears that the deliberation of the
Great Council was taken four days after thai of the Council of Eighty. (Floren*
tine Archives, cl. ii. No. 154, sheet 104.) The two decrees are written on the
margin of the sheet indicated. This filza^ or file, also bears the more modem
indication of " Signori e Collegi, Deliberaiioni,*' reg. dui>licate 169.

244 MACHIAVELLI'S LIFE AND TIMES,

florins, that being the fixed salary of the second Chancellor.*
But it is necessary to remark that, according to the law» these
florins were only worth four livres each, and not seven like the
ordinary florins of that time ; there was furthermore a deduction
of nine denari from every Hwe ; so that Machiavelli's stipend
did not really amount to much more than one hundred gold
florins.* Machiavelli was about thirty years of age when estab-
Ibhed as secretary in the company of Marcello Virgilio, who,
although he may have been his very learned friend, was certainly
not his preceptor.

Marcello Virgilio, born in 1464, was only five years older than
Machiavelli. He had been the pupil of Landino and Poliziano ;
he knew Greek and Latin, medicine, and the natural sciences ;
he had a great facility for improvisation, even in Latin. Th&se
oratorical gifts were assisted by the nobility of his appearance ;
he was tall, had a dignified bearing, a spacious forehead, and an
open countenance. Being nominated Professor of Letters at
the Studio in 1497, he continued to give lessons until the year
1502. His literary remains consist of many Latin orations, of
which the greater number are still unpublished ; a translation of
Dioscorides, which , altliough neither the first nor a very correct
version, gained him the title of the Tuscan Dioscorides, In
short he was a learned man of what might then have been
called the old school^ and notwithstanding the duties of his
office, never abandoned the classical studies which were the
constant theme of his conversation and correspondence with his
friends. 3

' This deliberation also has been frequently published. In none of the decrees
of namination is the salary mentioned. But in the reform of the chanceri^
carried out in 149S before quoted, it is settled that the post m hich had been held
by Alessandro Bracccsi should have the yearly stipend of 192 florins, and that of
Chancellor to the Second Chancery, namely that hekl by Antonio di Maria N'ud,
should be of 2cx> florins per year, Machiavelli was really first secret ar)' or Chan*
eel lor of the Second Chancery.

* These facts arc extracted from the before-quoted Reform of the 2Slh December,
1494, and are further confirmed by the orders of payment, one of which can be
seen in the Florence Archives, cK xiii. dist. 2, No* 69* a. c- 142*

3 Angelo Maria Bandini, ** Collectio vetenim aliquot monumentoruni : " Areliii
1752. In the preface he speaks of Marcello \ irgilio, of whom a eulogium also
may be found in vol. iii. of the '" Elogi storici degli Uomini illustri Toscanl ; "
Florence, 1766-73.

In the above-inentioned preface Bandini says: ** Id vero in Marcello mtrum
fuit quod etsi publici florentinana iuveniutcm humanioribus Uteris ertidiret^ nomiiie

HIS ELECTION AS SECRETARY TO THE TEN, 245

^

^

¥

Very different was Machiavelli. Of middle height, slender
figure, with sparkling eyes, dark hair, rather a small head, a
slightly aquiline nose, a tightly closed mouth : all ahout him
bore the impress of a very acute observer and thinker, but not
that of one able to wield much influence over others.' He could

tamen rcipuMicac litems sen bendi munus ntmquam inlenniserit.'* This preface
is followed by leller*; addressed to Marcello by Caleondila (i496)> and by Rolxjrto
Acdaioli, by Aldo Maniuio (1499), and by Cardinal Soderini (1508), all on the
subject of ctas&ical research^ discoveries of ancient monuments, &:c. Vide too
Premner's **Storia del pubblico Studio," &c., vol- i. pp. iSl, 187, and 190;
Fabroni's **Hi-storia Academiic Pisanx," vol. i pp. 95, 375, and 377. By an
unpublished letter from Marcello Virgilio to Machiavellit to be quoted further on,
it is plainly to be seen that even in 1502 when the latter was with Oesar Borgia,
the former was at the head of the first secretary's office, and was continuing to
give lectures.

In 1515 Adrian! had a fait from his horse, and suffered much in consequencei
not only his eyes, but his speech also remaining affected to the end of his life.
This is mentioned by Vakriani, **De literatorum infelicitate ; *' Venetiis* 1630,
p. 7I1 and liy Bandini at p, xix of his before-quoted preface. Regarding this
scholar's works, sec the printed catalogue of the Laurentian Library in Florence,
compiled and illustrated by Bandini and Morcni, " Bibliografia toscana."

Marcello died in 1521 at the age of 56 years, and was burietl in the family
tomb at the Franciscan church at San Miniato al Monte, which Michael Angelo
styled La Bella villancUa. Here is his monument and bust beneath which it
written :

** Suprema nomen hoc solo

Tantum voluntas iuaserat

Poni, sed hanc statu am prius

Erexil hafres, nescins

Famce futurum et glorioe

Aut nomen aut nihil satis."

Fis possible that the concluding words may have suggested the beautiful in-
scription afterwards placed on Machiavelli^s tomb in the church of Santa Croce.
Marcello Virgilio's son, Gio. Battista, the historian, and his grandson filled the
same chair as their father and grandfather. So little is generally known about
Marcello Virgilio, that I have tried here to put together a few notices concerning
him,

* In the gallery of the Uffizi there is preserv^ed a plaster cast, which is said to
have been executed on Machiavelli s corpse, solely on the ground of its having
been discovered during the present century, in the house of Machiavelli, in Via
Guicciardini. It is also asserted that Bartolini made use of this cast, whilst
engaged at his statue of Machiavelli, which is erected under the Uffizi* We,
however, found in BartoHni's studio the cast (of which we have a reproduction)
of another bust, and this bears much more resemblance to the statue- It is
almost identical with a bust in stucco, probably of the limes, which belonged to
the Ricci family, the heirs of Machiavelli, and afterwards passed to Marches©
Bcntivaglio d'Aragona- An ancient portrait bust in terra cotta, apparently taken
from the corpse, was once to be seen in F lorence, but its owner, Baron Seymour
Kirkupp, took it with him to Leghorn, and we do not know where it is now*

S4<^

MACHIAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES.

not easily rid himself of the sarcastic expression continually
playing round his mouth and flashing from his cye^, which gave
him the air of a cold and impassable calculator ; while neverthe*
less he was frequently ruled by his powerful imagination ; some-
times suddenly led away by it to an extent befitting the most
fantastic of visionaries. He applied himself to the faithful serWce
of the Republic, with all the ardour of an ancient Republican^
inspired by reminiscences of Rome, pagan, and republican. If
not altogether satisfied with the present form of government^ he
was well content that the Medicean tjTanny and the dominion
of a monk were both at an end. Doubtless his intercourse with
Marcelto Virgilio was beneficial to his studies, and it is possible
that he still attended some of the lectures given by his superior
in office, but he could not have had many leisure hours, being
occupied from morning to evening in writing official letters, of
which to this day many thousands are preserved in the Florentine
archives. Besides this employment he was continually sent by
the Ten on state errands, throughout the territories of the
Republic, and before long he was also entrusted with important
missions beyond the frontiers. He entered zealously into all
these affairs, for tliey suited his tastes and the feverish activity
of his nature. His leisure was devoted to reading, conversation^
and the usual pleasures of life. Being of a cheerful temper, he
was on good terms with his colleagues in the Chancery, and if
intimate with his superior^ Marcello Virgilio, was far more so
with Biagio Buonaccorsi, who, although in an inferior position
and but a mediocre scholar^ was a worthy man and a firm friend*
He it was^ who when Machiavelli was at a distance used to write
him long and affectionate letters in a tone of real friendship, and
from these we learn that the first secretary of the Ten was much
given to gay living, and to various irregular love affairs, of
which the two wrote to each other in a style that is far from
edifying.

Bartolmi and other sculptors who had seen it imd high opinion of it. In ooq.«
elusion we must menuon the en^aving, frontispiece of the old edition of Machia-
velti's works, dated 1550* which is known as the '*Testina,*' on account of this
veiy iKjftrait, There is a certain resemblance in all these different portiaits, with,
the exception, peihaps, of the mask found in Machbvelli'i> house.

CHAPTER IL

Piccolo Machiavelli begins lo exercise ibe office of Secrelar)' to the Ten — His
mission to Forli^CondemnaUon and Death of Taolo VitelU — Discourse upon
Pisan Affairs.

(1498-I499.)

^

W

5 principal undertaking in which the Republic
was now engaged was the war with Pisa, and
it seemed as though at last she would be
granted fair play without interference from
any quarler^ in this trial of strength with her
old ad\*ersary. In fact the Pope and the
allies declared themselves satisfied with Flor-
ence in consequence of the execution of Savonarola^ and demanded
no other concessions ; while the friendship which she had always
kept up with France seemed sufficient to curb the other Italian
potentates. It is true that Louis XIL» on his accession to the
French throne^ had likewise assumed the titles of King of Jeru-
salem and Sicily J and Duke of Milan ; thus in addition to the
old pretensions upon Naples, also asserting those which he boasted
over Lombardy, in right of descent from his grandmother,
Valentina Visconti ; it is true that this was prophetic of fresh
troubles to Italy, and had indeed already spread general conster-
nation in Milan and Naples ; but on the other hand all this
procured the Florentines the friendship and secret assistance of
the Moor, and encouraged their hopes. Still the Venetians con-
tinued openly to favour the Pisans ; the Lucchese, being weaker^
limited themselves to giving secret helpi and Pisa, with stern
resolve and marvellous energy, was always upon the defensive.
Not only did all the Pisan citizens carry arms, but even the

inhabitants of the out -lying territory were rendered practised

m

24B

MACHIAVELLVS LIFE AND TIMES,

combatants by the continually occurring skirmishes. Venice had
sent tbem 300 Stradiote or Albanian cavalryi lightly armed and
very effective in raids and skirmishes ; while a small number of
French had remained in Pisa ever since the expedition of Charles
VIII. ^ and helped to defend the walls. It must also be noted
that of late^ in consequence of internal dissensions, the Floren-
tines had greatly neglected military matters^ and their Captain
General Count Rinuccio da Marciano, together with their com-
missary Guglielmo dei Pazzi, had suffered so disastrous a defeat
in an encounter of some importance, that they had barely e«icaped
with life J And this was the moment chosen by Venice to threaten
an advance into the Casentino, in order to di%'ert the besieging
army in that direction. Fresh and more energetic measures were
therefore p res singly required.

First of all urgent letters were sent to the French king,
begging him to prevent his allies, the V^enetians» from marching
on the Casentino ; a considerable loan of money was asked and
obtained from the Moor ; it was decided to recall from France^
with the king-s consent, Paolo and Vitellozzo Vitelli^ and to
Paolo, who had great military renown, the chief command of
the array was offered, =^ His arrival in Florence, in the beginning
of Junei 1498, was the signal for a solemn festival. There was an
assemblage of the people and of the magistrates of the Republic
in front of the palace ; Marcel lo Virgilio read a Latin oration,^ in
which) lauding the prowess and excellences of the new Captain,
then present, he compared them to those of the greatest men of
antiquity* And while this was going on, the astrologer, whom
Vitelli had brought with him, remained with those of the Signoria
in the palace courtyard, taking observations and *' awaiting the
arrival of the fortunate moment/' No sooner was the signal agreed
upon made, than trumpets sounded, the oration was interrupted,
and the Gonfalonier hastened to present the baton of command,

\

' Nardi, " Storia di Firenze," vol. i* p. 174.

• Nardi say^i that the engagement of Paolo and Vitellozzo, advised b)' ihe Moor,
was made in agreemcnl with ihe King of Franccj and at the joint expense of the
said monarch and the Florentine people. **Storiadi Firenze/' vol. i. p. 173.

3 This Oration is in the Laurentian Library, Pint. Ixxsx., cod. xxix,: *'Oralio
pro eligendo tmperatore cxercitus Paullo Vitellio, et dandis illi miljtarjbiis impera-
toriis signijs/' In it the oraior alludes to perils which he had recently inciirretl,
perhaps in the Savonarola dots : " Scilis enim omnes quantis vitae penculis his
diebus iacLitus sim, qnaatoque metu coactus sim fugere presentem ubique mortem,
□11am nescius ipse mccutn forte trahebam/*

MACHIA VELLI IN EXERCISE OF HIS OFFICE. 249

with wishes for success in the field. After which all went to hear
mass in the cathedraljand on the 6th of June^ 14Q8^ the celebrated
captain set otit for the camp. Then the Ten began to push on
the war with great activity, and made use of Machiavelli^s services
in numerous important affairs.

It is almost incredible what an immense amount of trouble,
vexation, and danger this miniature war brought upon the Re-
public. First of all| the jealousy between the old captain and the
new, made it necessary to give Count Rinuccio the same pay as
\''itelli, and to allow him to retain the title of governor^ while the
new captain was entrusted ivith the chief direction of the war.
The campaign began prosperously enough with the capture of
several places, then news came of the Venetians being already on
the march towards the Casentino. It was necessary , therefore, to
hire fresh troops and new leaders, and to slacken the war in the
Pisan territory, in order to bring a larger force against the
Venetians, who^ in St^pt embers passed the Val di Lamone, and
captured Marradi, Here, however, they were checked by the
Florentine troops, commanded by Count Rinuccio, and strengthened
by a reinforcement from Duke Lodovico. Before these they re-
treated, but then marched towards the Casentino, taking the
Abbey of Camaldoli on the way ; after which they crossed Monte
Alvernia, and took Bibbiena by surprise. These events compelled
the Florentines to suspend altogether the war with Pisa, and,
leaving a small force to defend the more important places in that
territory, to despatch Vitelli with the whole army against the new
enemy. In the meantime, Don Basilio, the Abbot of Camaldoli,
was scouring the countr}% raising the peasantry' of the mountain
-districts, with which he was so well acqiiainted, and by this means
succeeded in arresting the march of the Venetians, and harassed
them severely.* At this juncture the Duke of Urbino, who
commanded in the enemies' camp, chancing to fall ill, asked a
safe conduct from Vitelli for himself and his troops, which was
immediately granted to him. This roused the anger and sus-
picions of the Florentines, especially when they learnt at the
.same time that their general had been speaking in public with
Piero and Giuhano dei Medici, who were following the hostile army.

* Speaking of this Don Basiliop Abbot of San FcHce in Piazza, and afterwards
» Vicar General of Camaldoli, MachiavelH says in his *• Historical Fragments":
"* Cuius full summa manus in bello, et amor et lides in patriam" ("Opere," voL ii#
l^. 366).

aso

MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

Winter had now set in, and although neither side was willing
to retire, it was becoming difficult to carry on the war among the
mountains, when Duke Ercole of Ferrara offered to arrange a
peace between Florence, Pisa, and Venice. His arbitration being
accepted^ he pronounced his verdict at the beginning of 1499. By
the 24th April the Venetians were to withdraw from the Casentino,,
and from Pisan territory \ the Florentines were to pay them the sum
of 100,000 ducats within twelve years ; the Pisans, while remaining
masters of their fortress, and preser\*ing their trade rights, were
again to be subject to Florence. All parties were dissatisfied
with these terms ; yet the Florentines accepted them, and the
Venetians unthdrew their troops, but the Pisans, on the other hand,,
made preparations for war with greater fury than ever.* The
secret of all this was, that new and startling events were expected
elsewhere, Louis XII . having pledged himself to the Pope and
Venetians that he would come to Italy to attack the Moon Every-
one therefore withdrew his troops from Tuscany, and Florence
and Pisa were at last left to face each other alone.

During these events Machiavelli had had a great deal to do, for
all the work of the Chancery of the Ten was transacted by him.
He wrote an immense number of letters, despatched orders, for-
warded money and arms, and sometimes had to go to confer in
person with the captains. Thus on the 24th of March, 1499, he was
sent to Pontedera on a mission to Jacopo IV. of Appiano, lord of
Piombino, who being in the ser\'ice of the Republic, demanded a
larger number of men, and pay equal to that received by Count
Rinuccio, He succeeded in persuading him to be content with
increased forces ; ' but the other captains were more pertinacious*
and there was no end to their claims and complaints. Paolo
Vitelli, disliking to be on an equality with Count Rinuccio^

» See the '* Storie di Firenre " of Naidi and Guicciardini. Regarding the suro
which the Florentines were to pay to the \''eneiians. Nnrdi tells us that it was
Ioa,OQO ducats in twelve years, Guicciardini, 150,000 in fifteen year*. There b a
break in Buonaccorsi's Diary at this piint, and the original manuscript in the
Riccardiana Library contains a note stating that the author had to interrupt his
work, owing to a six months^ absence from Florence, We may observe that that
is in itself sufficient to disprove il e opinion of »ome who wished to attribute the
Diary to Machiavelli, who certainly was not absent for &ix months at that pcricxi.
But of this more will l>e said later.

* The letter ol the Ten giving the commission to Machiavelli in date of the 24lh
March* 149S (Florentine style)^ is to be found among the '* Legazjoni,'* and in the
published ** Opere," is generally preceded, erroneously, by another of November,.
149S, delegating not Niccolo ^tachiavelli, bat Niccolo Mannelli.

MACHIA VELLI IN EXERCISE OF HIS OFFICE, 25 1

^

¥

demanded and obtained increased pay, and this instantly aroused
the jealousy of the Count, who in his turn began to make com-
plaints. All these things had augmented the expenses of the war,
and consequently the taxes^ to such an extent, that the latter
had become unbearable. The books of the decrees issued by the
Republic during these years exhibit nothing but a series of new
and ingenious contrivances for extorting money from the citizens.
The popular discontent was increased on seeing that the Ten, for
that reason nick-eamed the *^ ten expenders/* had squandered
large sums, not merely from carelessness, but in granting unlawful
favours to personal friends, giving them useless commissions and
commanderships ;* and there was a threatening of almost open
rebellion. Thus when in May the time came for the new
elections, thert; was a popular cry of — Down with the Ten and
the taxes {tu Died iih danari nmi fanno pet' nostri pari)^ and the
people unanimously refrained from voting,^ The Signoria there-

■ According to ihe Reform of the 2nd December, 1494, the Ten were to hold
office for six months (Florentine Archives, " Prowisioni. reg. 1S6, sheet 4). By
the decision of the Council of Eighty (nth May, 1495) the elections were to be
made in the Great CounciL

By the Reform of the 27th of April, 1496 (" Provvisioni/' rcg. i8S, sheet 16 and
foL)t it was decidetl that ** l>olh general and lipeciai Commissioners throughout the
dominions were to be elected by the Council of Eighty at the instance of ihe Ten
who were lo give ten nameii to be balloted for." The Ten, howevcr» had the power
of extending the teroi of office of those elected, to six months. Also, in emer-
gencies, they had the right of ;»endtng a commissioner to the camp for ftfteen days^
upon their own authority, and afterwards proceed to a regular election, which con-
firmetl the powers of the delegate of the Ten. This was the origin of many abuses^
since, to oblige friends, ihey appointed commissioners */Vrf/^«sti, when no urgency
existed, they kept ihcm on from fortnight to fortnight, and finally sought to have
them elected. Besides nominations of " commissorii c rettori dei luoghi,'* the Ten
engaged the military leaders* and had the control of the war expenses ; all things
which opened the door to many abuses,

^ See Guicciardini*s '• Storia Fiorentina/* p. 202 and foL» and Nardi*s ep. cit,^ voL
i. pp. 189-91. This latter writer at p, 184, in speaking of the straits to which
ibe Republic was reduced, mentions a certaiti Lorenzo Catucci, who offered a free
gift of a thousand florins and a loan of five thousand for five years, on condition
** of having the benefit {i*€mpa&) of the state for the lesser trades*" His offer was
refused, but on the day on which the bentficio could be legally granted, Catucci's
name was put to the vote by the major trades, and he thus obtained gratis more than
that which he had asked in return for his money. This shows us that some
Republican virtues still remained in Florence at this date.

A measure of the 31st May 1499 (Florentine Archives, ** Consigli Maggiori^
Provvisroni/* reg* 191, a, c 10) established new rules for the election of magistrates^
since it often being necessary at that time to call re[)catcd meetings of the Great
Coimcili in order to obtain the legal majority of votes, many wearied of it all and

as*

MACHIAVEILI'S LIFE AND TIMES.

fore had to condescend to assume the direction of the war» with
the aid of certain of the more influential citizens. The accusa-
tions brought against the Ten had no reference either direct or
indirect to Machiavelli, their secretary^ who indeed had already
gained considerable authority and renown. The second Chancery
of which he was at the head, was now attached to the Signoria as
well as the first ; but this made little or no change in his position,
and only brought him some additional occupation.

On the 1 2th of Julvi I449t he received his first important com-
mission, being sent with a despatch from the Signory, signed
by Marcel lo Virgil io, to Caterina Sforza, Countess of Iraola and
ForiL The friendship of this small State was carefully cultivated
by the Kepublic, for not only was it situated on the high road
from Upper to Lower Italy, but also on that leading into Tuscany
by the Val di Lamone. From this side the Venetians had
advanced, from this side the Duke of Valentinois had made
threatening demonstrations. That part of the country too was
warlike, and furnished mercenaries to all who asked them of the
Countess, who made almost a trade of it* Her first-born son,
Ottaviano Riario^ though a mere youth, was always ready to earn
money by taking a command (conciotta). In 1408, he had obtained
one worth fifteen thousand ducats, from the Florentines, who were
anxious to keep upon friendly terms with his mother. His
engagement was to expire at the end of June^ but might be
renewed at the pleasure of the Signori for another year. But at
the end of the first period Riario was very discontented. He said
that the Florentines had not observed their part of the bargain,
and that he objected to renew it. The Countess, however, being
a much more prudent person, seeing that the Florentines desired
her friendship, and knowing that Valentinois still had designs
upon Romagna, showed herself disposed to ratify the benepiaato^
adding that her uncle the Moor had sent her a request for men-
at-arms, and that she would therefore be glad of a speedy reply
in order to know what she should do. Far this reason Machia-
velli was sent as Envoy to her Court.

The Countess Caterina was an extraordinary woman, and quite

left offaitendlng the meetings. Il was therefore decided that all names obtaining
the half of the beans and one extra, should be entitled to be put to the ballot. As
regarded the Ten, however, all decisions were suspended until the Eighty should
declare, by a majority of two4birds of the ^^otcs, whether they desired that magistra*
tore to be continued or not.

i

HIS AflSSION TO FORLL

m

capable of holding her own against the secretary. Born in 1462,
an illegitimate daughter of Galeazzo Maria Sforza,* by Lucrezia^
wife of a certain Sandriani of Milan^ she was a woman of hand-
some, regular features, of great bodily strength, and of more than
masculine intellect. She had gone through many and singular
adventures. At a very early age she was married to the dissolute
son of Sixtus IV,, Girolamo RiariO| who» owing to the violent
tyranny of his rule, was in continual danger of assassination by
conspirators. In 1487 when far ad\'anced in pregnancy, she was
nursing her husband in an illness at Imola^ when news arrived
that the Castle of Fori! had been seized by Codronchi, master of
the palace, who had murdered the governor. Whereupon Caterina
started the same night, entered the castle, and leaving Tommaso
Feo in charge of it, brought Codronchi back with her to Imola,
where she gave birth to a child on the following day. On the
14th of Aprils i^^P, a conspiracy broke out in Forll, Girolamo
Riario was stabbed, and she, left a widow at the age of twenty-
sixj and with six children, found herself a prisoner in the hands
of the Orsi, ringleaders of the revolt. But not even then did
her courage fail her. The castle still held out for her, and she
was allowed to enter it, in the hope that she would order its
surrender to the people » in whose hands she had left her children
as hostages. But she had already sent messengers to ask for aid
from Milan, and now that she was in safety, she prepared to
defend the castle until succour should arrive. To those who
sought to subdue her, by threatening the murder of her children,
she rephed that she was able to give birth to more. The city
was recaptured, and the rebellion put down with bloodshed.
Afterwards the faithful Castellan who had saved her life, was
suddenly disarmed and dismissed^ and his post given to his
brotherj Giacomo Feo, a handsome youth whom the Countess
soon married.

This second husband also died by assassination in 1495, while
driving home with the Countess from the chase. She instantly
mounted a horse and galloped into Forh^ where she took a
sanguinary revenge. Forty persons were put to death ^ and fifty
imprisoned or otherwise persecuted. Yet it was asserted by many
that she herself had hired the assassins of her husband, and was

' It is an rxld fact that Kardif the coiiteniporary and usually faithfal historian
(op, cit.t vol. i. p. 34), speaks of her as the sister of Lodovici>T when she herself in
her letters to the Florentines calls him il nostm barbai our Uncle.

^54

MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

now making his death a pretext for ridding herself of her
enemies. She answered the accusation by saying, that thanks
to the Lord J neither she, nor any other member of the Sforza
house had ever found it necessary to make use of common
assassins, when they wished to get rid of any man. In 14Q7 she
married for the third time, and became the wife of Giovanni, son
of Pier Francesco, one of the younger branch of the Medici, who
had come to her Court as ambassador of the Florentine Republic*
On this occasion she was made citizen of Florence, partly because
it was wished to flatter and keep on good terms with her ; partly
because the old laws prohibiting the marriage of citizens, particu-
larly of powerful citizens, with foreigners, had been revived since
the intermarriage of the Medici with the Orsini of Rome had so
greatly swelled the pride of that family. In the April of I4q8
Caterina gave birth to another son, afterwards renowned as
Giovanni delle Bande Nere, father to Cosimo, first Grand Duke
of Tuscany ; and towards the end of the same year her third
husband also breathed his last. She was therefore at thirty-six
years of age, a widow for the third time, the mother of many
children, absolute mistress of her little State, and noted as a
woman of excellent prudence and courage, when Niccolo Machia-
velH presented himself at her Court. ^

The Florentines were disposed to confirm their heneplacito to
Count Ottaviano, but not to grant him a command exceeding
the value of ten thousand ducats, their only object being that^
of gaining the Countess's good-will. They also commissioned
Machtavelli to purchase of her as much powder, saltpetre, and
ammunition as she could spare, since perpetual supplies were
needed for the camp before Pisa.^ After a necessary halt at
Castrocaro, whence he sent information to the Signory of the
factions which divided that place, he reached Forll on the 16th

' This Giovanni del Medici (1467-98) was, as we have said, son of Pier Fran-
MSCOr who was the son of Lorcii?:o, second brother of Cosimo, paUr pairia. As
aU know, the father of Cosimo and La>tctizo was Giovanni dei Medici » the real
fotindfef of the family. The elder branch, namely that directly descended ftora
Cosimo, was extinguished in 1537 hy the death of Alessandro. murdered by
Loienzmo dei Medici. The Grand Dukes of Tuscany were descended from the
second branch.

* See the '* Vita di Caleriim Sforea," by Abate Antonio Buiricl, 3 vols, in 410 ;
Bologna, I795» See also, ** A Decade of Italian Women," by T. A. Trollope;
London, 1859, 2 vols.

* See the '* Istruzione " given to Machiavelli, decreed on the 12th of July, i4S^t
ID voL vi. p. 7, of the ** Opere."

)

HIS MISSION TO FOR LI.

»ss

^
N

day of July, and presented himself straightway to the Countess.
He found with her the agent of Lodovico, and in his presence set
forth the object of his mission j the intentions of his Republic,
and its desire to be on friendly terms with her. The Countess
hstened to him with great attention, said that the words of the
Florentines ** had always satisfied her» whereas their deeds had
always much displeased her/' ' and that she must have time for
reflection.

She afterwards let him know that she had been offered better
terms by Milan, and then negotiations began. She had neither
powder nor ammunition for sale, not having sufficient for her own
needs. On the other hand she had an abundance of soldiers whom
she passed daily in review and sent on to Milan. Machiavelli, at
the instance of Marcello VirgiliOj tried to obtain some of these to
send to Pisa, but could not come to terms with the Countess
either for the price to be paid, or as to when he could have them.*
On the 22nd of July he thought that he had concluded the
bargain, having raised his offer to twelve thousand ducats ; yet
he added that he was not certain^ because the Countess **had
always stood upon her dignity,'* so that he could never clearly
determine whether she inclined towards Florence or Milan. ** I
see on the one hand,'* he wrote, ** that the Court is crowded with
Florentines, who appear to manage all the concerns of the State ;
also, and what is still more important, the Countess beholds the
Duke of Milan attacked, without knowing whether she may rely
upon his aid or not ; but on the other hand the Moor's agent
seems to have authority, and foot soldiers are continually leaving
for Milan."

In fact, although by the 23rd of July everything appeared to
be concluded, and it was settled that the agreement should be
signed the following day, when Machiavelli presented himself to
ask for her signature, the Countess received him as usual in the
presence of the Milanese agent, and told him that, *' having
thought the matter over in the night, it seemed to her better not
to fulfil the terms, unless the Florentines would pledge themselves

* Letter of the ijlh of July , in the " Legatione a Caterina Sforra."
' The Florentines required them at once, ** for the Captain begs, worries and
presses for them daily and hourly." Letter of the iSth of July, signed by MaTcetlo
Viigilio. These and other letters from the same, which are however of little or
no im porta Dcet are in the National Library of Florence ('' Carte del AlachiavelU/*
case il)» and were published by Pasiierini, together with the " Legadonc *' to
Catcrina Sforxa of Fori), in vob iii. of the ** Opere" (P, M,)^

^S6

MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES,

to defend her State. That although she had sent him a message
of a different nature the previous day, he ought not to be surprised
at the change* since the more things are talked over, the better
they are understood." ' But the Florentine Government had
expressly told Machiavelli that it was decided not to undertake
any such obligation, therefore there was nothing for him to do
hut return to Florence, which he accordingly did**

The failure of this mission seems to show that the Countess
was more cunning than Machiavelli, who allowed himself to be
outwitted by a woman. Nor can that be very astonishing
when we remember that Caterina Sforza was a >\'oman of mascu-
line intellect, long sole ruler of her State and of great business
experience, whereas the Florentine secretary, notwithstanding his
wonderful abilities, was only a man of letters making his first
campaign in diplomacy. But at bottom the Florentines had no
motive for discontent. Their real object was not the arrangement
of the coufiotta, but rather that of \nnning the Countess's friend-
ship without any expense ; and in this their success was complete,
for the negotiations were not broken off, a confidential agea^^f
from Forli being sent to continue themJ To Machiavelli himse^^
the mission had been most useful, for his letters had been highly
praised by all in the Palace. His ever -faithful friend and coUeague,
Biagio Buonaccorsi, a Republican admirer of Savonarola, of
Benivieni, of Pico della Mirandola, wrote to him continually and
kept him an fait of everything. He was a lover of learning,
although but a mediocre writer, author of some poems and of a
Diary which gives a very accurate account of Florentine events
from 149S to 1512. "In my opinion,'* he said in a letter of igth
of July, '* you have acquitted yourself so far with much honour
of the mission imposed upon you, in the which thing I have
taken and am still taking great delight ; go on as you have
b^un, for hitherto you have done us much honour.** He

' See the *' Legazione" to Caterina Sforza, coming tirst in every edition. There
are seven letters from Machiavelli. ** Opcre,*' vol, vi. pp. ll-3l»

' For this mission Machiavelli received^ in consequence of the decree of 31st of
August, 1499, nineteen broad florins in gold, " to cover his expenses going, stopping
and returning in nineteen days* counting from the ijLh of July up to the 1st of
the present month inclusive,'* This document is in the tlorence Archives,
*' Signnri, Stanmmenli der* 1499^ sheet II- It was published in the ** Opere "
(P* M.), vol, iii* p. 32t note 2,

3 " The respectable Messrs. Joannii my auditor/' See the Countess's Iclleri
dated 3rd of August 1499, in the '* Opere/' voL vi, p, 31.

HIS MISSION TO FORU.

257

I

repeats the same in other letters, in one of which he asks for a
portrait of the Countess, and begs that it may be forwarded *' in
a roll, to avoid its being spoiled by folding/* And he also
earnestly begs Machiavelli to return at once, because in his
absence there was great disorder in the Chancer\"| and \ix\vy and
jealousy were very rife ; wherefore "remaining away is not
*' good for you, and here there is a deluge of work such as never

* Three of the letters written by Buonaccorsi in July are to be found in the
National Library of Florence* nariiely two dated the 19th, one the 27th* *' Carte
di Machiavelli/* case ii* Nos. i, 77, 78. Biagio Buonaccorsi was faithful to
Machiaveltif even when the latter fell into misfortune, and was exposed to
many attacks for the publication of the ** Principe"; he was bom in 1472,
and married a niece of MfirsiHo F'icino, who was afterwards the friend of
Machiavelli's wife. He was the author of several poeniji which still remain
unpublished in the Florence libraries, and have not much literary merit. He
also wrote the *' Impresa fatta dai Signori Floientini I'anno 1 500, con le genti
Frances!, per espugnare la citta di Pisa, capitano Monsignor di Belmontc.*' This
little work which is of slight literary value, but useful on account of its historical
accuracy, was published by F. L. Polidori in the '* Archivto Slorico," vol. v.
part II. It consiils of nineteen pages, to which rolidori added & preface of his
own, giving many details regarding the author. During his life Buonaccorsi
published nothing but a species of epistle dedicatee! to Girolamo Benivieni
regarding Pico della Mirandola*s commentary on Eenivieni^s own composition,
" Canzone dell amor divino.** See '* Opere di Girolamo Benivieni ** : Florence,
Giunti, 1519. But Buonaccorsi*s principal work is his *' Diary" of events
happening in Italy and especially in Florence, from 149S to 1512, during which
period Ntachiavelli and he were together in the second Chancery of the Republic,
and quilted ofFtce at the same time, when the Government was changed. The
'* Diar}' *' was publi**he<i in Florence by Giunli in 1519 ; and though without much
!itcrar>' merit, has great historical imjxjrtance, being based uiwn official letters.
The style in which it is written forbids all comparison with the works of Machia-
velli ; yet strange to say, it was frequently attributed to his pen.

Ammirato, in his '* Famiglie nobili Italiane," at page loj, alludes to a tnty
small n&te hook ^ written by MachiaveUi, "perhaps to put him in the way of the
history which he never continued.'^ And in the ** Elogi di Uomini illustri
Toscani *' (Florence, 1766-73, vol. iv. p. 37) we find that a man of letters had
discovered that the ** Diary" was not by Buonaccorsi, but by Machiavelli, founding
this theory on Ammirato's observation, and on the circumstance that the " Diary '*
begins almost at the point where the *' Historical Fragments,** the continuation of
Machiavelli's ** Histories," come to an end. Moreni, in his ** Bibliogratia della
Toscana,^' repeated this assertion without disputing it. Vet it would have Ijeen
easy to observe that Ammirato quotes a fragment of the qttcuitmuccio alluded to,
and this fragment is the description of Niccolo Valori, written by Machiavelli
and published among his ** Nature d* Uomini illustri fiorenlini,'* which might
have been comprised in a quaikrnuaio or tjuire, whereas the '* Diar)- *' is a
volume of respectable bulk. Thus the strange assertion might easily have been
refuted. All the old MSS* of the ** Diary *' bear Buonaccorsi'^ name, the auto-

VOL. \, t8

#58 MACHI AVE LLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

Before setting out on his mission to Fori!, Machiavelii was en-
gaged, as we have already noted, in penning letters to calm the
jealousies of the captains using ever^^ argument to inspire them with
a love for the Republic which none of them felt^ and induce them
to prosecute the war on good terms with one other, Vitelli had
made a proposal to attack Cascina, and this being agreed to, he
took it by assault on the 26th of June, thereby raising the spirits
and hopes of the Florentines, who immediately conceived a high
opinion of his valour. But from that moment everything came
to a standstill^ while ali expenses increased enormously, so that
Machiavelii, on his return from Forii, found the Signory in con-
sternation, the people irritated, and the captains demanding
remittances which were not to be had. Early in August he had
letters despatched to them in the name of the Signory, stating
that there were the greatest difficulties in the way of getting the
Councils to vote funds for fresh expenditure ; and that if matters
went on long in this fashion ** it would be impossible for half
Italy to furnish supplies for all this artillery/' ^

:grapb one preserved in the Riccardkna Library of Florence (codex 1920) al*o has
a note, as we before mentioneiU recording the author's absence from Florence
inuring six monlhs, when NfachiaveUi was almost always in ihe Chancery. Some
have tried to mainiain that the handwriting of the autograph " Diary *' might be
confounded with that of Machiavelii ; \m\ comparisons of the two is sufiftcient to
disprove the assertion. Hence it were iisele&!i to dwell loo long upon these
unfounded donbts.

It is necessary to mention that almost the whole of this ** Diary '* has been in-
corporated in the " Storia di Firenie " by Jacopo Nardi, who hasj however, made
many corrections jn the style,

* Florentine Archives* ** Letlere dei Dicci di Balia,'' 1499* cl. x. dist. 3, No. 91.
According to the new airangemcnl of the archives, the samc^/^ or file is labelled
Signori^ missive^ No 21. Both lal>els are preserved^ in order to facilitate research.
The letter quoted ahove is of the 5th of August^ and is to he found at sheet 64.

We now begin to avail ourselves of Machiavelh's official letters, of which a large
number still remain ineditcd in the Florence Archives, Of original letters only
there are more than 4100, Among them, however t are included the 264 puhlished
by Canestrini in his volume, " Scritd Inediti *' of Niccol^ Machiavelii, and also
some of the legations. To these wx shall refer later on*

These letters were written by Machiavelii himself in the minutes or protocols,
and then copied into the registers by the cleiks of the Chancery. NatumUy all
the minutes are not in his hand, hut his autograph is easily distinguished- We
have not been able to find the minutes of the letters he wrote in August* but only
the register or the copies \ therefore the few letters we quote as having been
written by him in that month, are judged to be his on the strength of their style.
Of all the letters which we quote, dating from the 1st September, 1499, we hiavc
seen the autograph originals, excepting when the contrary is stated.

THE CONDEMNATION OF P, V2TELLL

259

k

¥

^

And a little later he added ** that having expended up to this
date about 64^000 ducats for this expedition, everybody has been
drained ; and to make up the present sum which we now send
(2,000 ducats), every strong box has been emptied. . . /^ If you
do not act quickly, '*we shall surely be stranded, for were other
6,000 ducats required^ we should have to renounce all hope of
victory/'*

After this, however, came a moment of joyful encouragement ;
news arrived that the tower of Stampace had been captured and a
wide breach eflfected in the walls of Pisa, so that hour by hour the
Florentines expected to hear that their troops had entered the city.
They learnt instead that on the loth there had been a pitched
battle ; that the Church of San Paolo had been reached, but that
just when the whole army, and especially the youthful Florentines
who had joined the camp as volunteers, were carrying all before
them by their indomitable ardour, they were suddenly ordered to
retreat. And Paolo Vitelli, seeing the unwillingness of the
soldiers to obey^ rushed among them with his brother Vitellozzo
and drove them back with blows. ^

This news raised to the highest pitch the indignation of the
Florentines, and awakened grave suspicions of treachery on the
part of Vitelli, AH remembered the safe conduct granted by
him in Casentino to the Duke of Urbino, at the time when he had
also allowed himself to be seen in conversation with Piero and
Giuliano dei Medici, Shortly before the capture of Cascina he
had taken a certain Ranieri della Sassetta prisoner^ who^ after
having been in the pay of the Florentines, had gone over to the
Pisans, and taken part in numberless intrigues against the
Republic, The Signory had ordered that he should be instantly
sent to Florence for trial^ but Vitelli allowed him to escape, saying
that **he would not become the jailor of a valiant and worthy
soldier." 3 And now he checked his army exactly when victory
was assured and Pisa itself on the point of being taken, saying
that he was sure of getting it to surrender on conditions. All
this was more than enough to make the Florentines lose patience.
The Signory openly declared that they would no longer be ** led
in the dark ; " ♦ and on the zoth of August Machiavelli was

* Letter on the 7 th Augvistj at sheet 68 of the before -quoted Register.
» Nardi, **Stona di Firenxe/' vol. i, p, 196 and foL
3 Guicciardini, ** Storia Fiorentlna,*' p. 204,
Letter of the 14th Augusts at sheet 74 of the Register before mentioned.

26o MACHIAVELU'S LIFE AND TIMES.

ordered to write as follows to the Commissaries at the camp : —
** We have granted the captain all that which he desired, yet we
behold" "all our trouble put to nought through his various
shufflings and deceit." * For the which reason, had our laws
permitted of it, two of our number would have come in person
to try and discover the cause of this double dealing, '* since it
appears that you either will not write to us of the matter or are
ignorant of it." ^ But all was in vain. Fever was making great
havoc in the army^ which daily diminished, whereas the Pisans
were receiving reinforcements. The two Commissaries were
seized with fever, and one of them died. In \mdng to the new
ones who quickly replaced them, Machiavelli said, in the name of
the Signory : ^* We should have preferred defeat to inaction at so
decisive a moment.^' ** We neither know what to say, nor with
what reasons to excuse ourselves before all this people, who will
deem that we have fed them with lies, in holding out to them I
day by day vain promises of certain victory.-* 3

Some decision had to be taken, and no money being available,
the only thing now to be done, after Vitelli^s strange conduct and
the serious suspicions to which it had given rise, was to send him
immediate orders to break up the camp, leaving only a few of the
more important places in a state of defence. But even then all
went badly ; since, among other things, ten boats loaded with
ammunition and artillery were sunk in the Arno, and some of
these fell into the hands of the Pisans, who fished them up.-* But

* At this point, we find on the margin of the Register, the following note, in
the writing of the period : " t^uanlus motror."

^ We give in the Appendix this letter of the 20th August together with another
of the ISth, Documents ii. and iii.

3 This IcUer aUo of the 25th August is given in the Appendix, Document iv.

* See in the " Scritti inediu di Niccol^i Machiavelli," illustrated by G»
Canestrini (Florence, Barbara, Bianchi & Co., 1S57), the letters dated the Slh,
lothj and 13th Septcmbci, and that of the 27th October, 1499, at pp. 8i, Sa, $5^
and 118.

In this volume Canestrini has reprinted the letters written by Machiavelli, when
he had the ortlertng of the militia in i lorencc, and which he had already published
in the *' Archivio Storico/' He has also added many other inediled letters. They
are 264 in all, and all treat of the affairs of the Republic. Excepting those con-
cerning the militiar they may be said to be chosen haphajuird, without a purpose,
without any proper chronological arrangement or ilibtrilmiion of subjects. He
jumps from one letter to another, leaves out iK^ortions longer than tho^e which he
gives, without assigning any reason^ and even without warning the reader. Evi-
dently, too, he was ignorant of the greater part of Machiavelli's official letters,
since he publishes ^many of no value and leaves out a large number of those of
importance*

I

THE CONDEMNATION OF P, VITELLJ,

261

VitelH could not extricate himself from the consequences of this
affair. Besides what had already occurred, and when every one in
Florence believed him to be a traitor, a rumour was also spread
that, in the flight of Lodovico from Milan, papers had fallen into
the hands of the French, proving beyond doubt that he (Vitelli)
had made secret arrangements for prolonging the war/ Braccio
Martelli and Antonio Canigiani had already been despatched as
war commissionersj apparently for the purpose of furnishing the
necessary funds for breaking up the camp, but in reality to seize
the persons of Paolo and Vitellozzo Vitelli, the latter of whom
had made an attempt to escape, by asking for a leave of absence,
that was refused him.

Letters written by Machiavelli at this period show that the secret
of the business was in his hands, and that, convinced of Vitelli's
bad faith and treachery, he laboured with exceeding zeal and
ardour to achieve the desired object. On ihe 27th of September
the dknouement of the drama was close at hand, and he urged the
commissioners to proceed with energy against ** rebels and enemies
of the Republic/^ since it was a question of saving the Florentine
honour^ and also of showing France that Florence had the courage
to provide for her own safety, and claimed equal respect with all
other Italian potentates. In conclusion^ he recommended that to
vigorous action should be joined so much circumspection and
prudence, ** that you may not be misled, by over-zeal or over-
caution^ to accelerate matters more than is necessary on the one
hand, or more than opportunity permits on the other.- ^ *

The two commissaries fulfilled their orders with prudencet
Vitelli was quartered about a mile beyond Cascina, to which place
the field artillery^ was being withdrawn. They invited him to
come thither on the 38th under colour of wishing to consult with
hira on the conduct of the war ; but, after dining together, they
led him into a secret chamber, and kept him confined there. At
the same time they had sent in search of V^itellozzo^ who was ill
in bed ; he, however, suspecting a trap, asked for time to dress
himself, and contrived to make his escape towards Pisa,3 Paolo,

' Nardi, **Stonar1i Firenze/' vol. L pp. 199, 200.

* "Scrilli Incditi," as before at p. 95. See also the letter of the 29tli
SeptembcT at p. 96, and those following on the same iiubject-

^ Nardi, ** Storie di Firenjtc," vol. 1. pp. 201 and 202. That same iiiay» the 28th
September, Paolo Vitelli wrote from Casdna, after being made a priBoncr, a letter
to a certain Cerbone da Castello, which is to be found among the *' Cane del^

362

MACHIAVELLVS LIFE AND TIMES.

being conveyed to Florence, was examined on the last day of
September^ and, although he had confessed to nothing, was
beheaded within four-and-twenty hours. This extent made much
noise both in the city and abroad, Vitelli being a renowned leader,
and one who also enjoyed the friendship of France. Guicciardini
considers that he was innocent of treachery^ attributing his inex*
plicable conduct to the nature and habits of mercenary captains ;
Nardi, on the contrary, declares that he was guilty and well
deserved his fate ; Buonaccorsi, who was in the Chancery, relates
the matter without comment, concluding with these words ; '^and
this was the end of Pagolo Vitegli, a very excellent man.** As to
Machiavelli, although he had no opportunity of mentioning the
affair in his ^' Storie ** or in the " Frammentip'* which do not go
beyond the middle of ^99, yet his opinion is manifested in the
** Decennali,^' * by the letters which he wrote, and the ardour he
displayed in the conduct of the affair.

We do not know that any decisive proof of Vitelli^s treason
was discovered at the time, but from the deliberations of the
Venetian Council of Ten, it is clearly shown that Vitelli was really
a traitor ^ that he had promised to reinstate Piero dei Medici
in Florence ; and that negotiations to that effect had gone so far
that the Venetians had promised to reward him with a Condotta
of the value of forty thousand ducats^ or of an even larger sum,
ehould he insist upon it.^ At any rate, it was known to the
Florentines that Vitelli did not intend to conquer Pisa before
seeing the result of the war between the French and Lodovico
the Moor, with whom the Republic had never come to an open
rupture,^

Machiavelli/' case ii» No. 75. Niurdi m fact tells \x^(op, aA, vol. i. p. 204)
thftt this Cerbone was seized and questioned, and that letters and papers conceming
Vitelli were found on his i>erson,

' '* Opere," vol, V, p. 364.

* Archivio dei Frari, " Misti/' c,
was the first to call attention to
*' Historiscbc Zeitschiift.'*

3 From the information sent by Machiavelli l:ietween April and July, 1499, to
Francesco Tosinghi^ commissary at the camp before Pisa, it is very clear that the
Florentines pressed on the one side by the French, on the other by the Moor, would
not declare themselvejt openly, '*and temporizing with one party and the other,
were making a Ix-nefit of delay/' See the *'Opere," vol. viit. letter v., in dale of
the 6th July» 1499, and the two preceding. In the letter of the 27lh September,
ediLcd by Canestrini* and quoted by ys above, the Florentines* while urging the
imtnediatc seizure of Vitelh, said that they desired to act with severity, to make it

X, voL n 275, carte 2i3t< Herr M. Broscb

these documents in the pages of Sybil*$

HIS DISCOURSE UPON FISAN MATTERS. 265

1

i

The victor\^ of the French being assured, it seems that he had
changed his mind and decided/ so at least Nardi tells us^ — to
do his part in earnest ; but he had then lost his reputation, and
it was too late,''

Another proof, were any necessaryi of the prominent part taken
by Machiavelli in all affairs relating to the war, and of the esteem
in which his labours were held^ is to be found in his short
** Discorso fatto al Mapfistrato de* Dieci sopra le cose di Pisa,"
which, though undated, bears internal evidence of having been
written in this year.^ It was one of the many compositions

understood, *' esf>eciany by His Most Christian Majesty, that they knew how to
take care of ihemselves, and meant lo be resjjccted.*' This ser\'es [o confirm ihe
stiapicion that Vilelli, as a friend of Francet was dragging out thecanijiaign in order
to wait for the result of the \\ar in Lorn bar tly,

* Nardil •* Storia di Firenze/* vol, i. p. 210,

* Many were the reports spread about this V^itelH affair. SJgnor Nitli {of. cii.
vol. i. pp. 67 and kA.) puljli.^hcs a letter found among the "Carte del MachiavellP'
(cas« 1, No. 49) without address, date or signature, which likewise mentions these
reports, and this he gives a-s a letter by Machiavelli, on account of the hand*
writing ; but the hand is certainly not that of Machiavelli, nor does the style appear
to be his. F*or greater certainty, we have also submitted the manuscript to the
examination of competent friends*

In the June of 1501, a certain Piero Garabacorti, who had been in the service of
the r'isans. was seized and questioned. An account of his trial, written in
Machiavelli's own hand, exists in the Florentine Archives. Being interrogated as
to the affair of Stampace, he said that the Pi&ans thought that all was lost : "all
abandoned the idea of resistance, and throughout Saturday and half Sunday Pisa
was yours/' He had gone away thinking the town was lost ; many soldiers and
constables prepareti to depart ; ** but seeing that your troops did not follow up
their victor^-, they returned to the bastions and the wall." Being asked if he con-
sidered that Paolo Vitelli was a traitor, he replied that, without being positive of
his treachery, he could affirm that for a day and a half Pisa was in his hands*
That he had said as much to Vitellozzo at Faenza, who had answered thot^ at
that time they were ignorant to what condition the Pisans were reduced ; that they
thought to have done enough in taking Stampace, and that they meant to fortify

in order to take the city afterwards ; also that it was PaoloV nature ** to
^Spafe his men, and avoid exposing them to periL'* This almost insignihcant trial
:was published by P.i5serini in the ** Opere '* <?. M.), vol. iii. p. 78. We certainly
should not give it a place in the ** Opere ^* of Machiavelli, since little or nothing
of his could be in it, besides, it is well to remember, that owing to the duties
of his officer atd to collect necessary materials for his *' Storie," he copied and
preserved many writings which were not his own.

J •* Upcre/' vol. li. p. 380. As to the year in which this "Discorso" was
written^ some doubts may arise from its being addressed to the Dieci, who in 1499
were not elected. V^et* on reading itt it is very difficult to assign it to another
year, since it alludes to the rt-ctni ^xamph of the Venetians who had abandoned
the PisaniJ, who indeed found themselves ** not accepted by Milan^ and repulsed
byCtenoa," Now, the Venetian event happened at theend of 1498, and towards the

264 MACHIAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES,

which his office made it necessary for him to write, and in it,
after proving by a series of just arguments the folly of hoping
to reduce Pisa otherwise than by force, he gives details of the
various opinions expressed by the captains about the method of
dividing the Florentine troops into two or three camps, and the
war operations that were proposed. He narrated and expounded
these opinions and proposals with an exactness and precision
clearly proving that, even at that period, his intellect and his
studies were not only dedicated to State affairs, but likewise to
military matters. Or, to put it more plainly still, it is evident
that he already recognized that a knowledge of the art of war was
an essential element of statesmanship.

end of 1499 the French had already entered Milan. Still the title may have been
written at a latter date, and may not have been written by Machiavelli. Besides
which, although the Ten were not elected in 1499* their office was not suppressed,
their Chancery remained, carried on the affairs of the war, and the series of their
protocols and registers went on as before.

CHAPTER in.

Louis XII. in Italy — Defeat and imprisonment of the Moor — Niccolo Machiavelti
at the camp be fore Pisa-^Firsi embassy to France.

(14^9-1500.)

1NE of the Floren tines* special reasons for the
hurried trial of Vitelli, was their fear lest the
new and important successes of the French in
Lombardy should prevent the execution of the
sentence. These events, in fact, caused no
sHght changes in the affairs of Tuscany, and
therefore it is necessar)^ to speak of them.
After the battle of Forauovo, Lodovico seemed actually to have

realized his old desire of holding coinplete sway over Italian affairs.

In the streets of Florence, people sang r

" Cristoin cielo e il Moro in icrra
Solo sa li tine di qiiesta gxierra.*' *

He himself had caused a silver medal to be coined^ with a vessel of
w^ater on the obverse^ and fire on the reverse, symbolic of his
power as master of peace and war. Also, upon one of the inner
avails of his palace, he had had the map of Italy painted with a
number of cocks, hens, and chickens and a Moor, broom in hand^
sweeping thera all away. When, however, he asked the Floren-
tine Ambassador, Francesco Gualterotti, for his opinion of the
picture^ the latter replied that it was a pretty fancy, but that it

' Which oiay be rendered in English doggerel :

** The Lord above and the Moor below
Alone can tell how the war will go.'*

266

MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

appeared to him that the Moor, in tr\ing to sweep the cocks out
of Italy, was being smothered by the dust ; * and such H^as in reality
the case.

Louis XIL| who had always claimed a right to the Duchy of
Milan, no sooner ascended the throne of France, than he began to
provide for the internal security of the State, He reduced the
taxes ; arranged the admini^tration of justice, and nominated as
chief minister, Georges d' Amboisei archbishop of Rouen. He
respected the constituted authorities, and took no deliberations
without their advice ; he maintained the independence of the
courts of justice ; he encouraged Galilean liberties ; he was
economical, When^ by means of these wise provisions, he had
assured the order of the State, and gained much favour with his
people, he turned his attention to the Italian war, which was no
longer unpopular in France, by reason of the increased confidence
in the sovereign, and the general desire to revenge past humilia-
tions. On the qth of February, 1499, Louis concluded with the
Venetians a treaty offensive and defensive for the conquest of the
Duchy of Milan, pledging himself to yield a portion of it to them.
Thus the Moor found himself between two fires, with no one to
look to for help ; since the Florentines had always been the
friends of France, and the Pope, after the promises of aid to the
Valentinois, also gave his approval. The French army, under
the command of the Milanese G, G* Trivulzio — who, since the
battle of Fornuovo, had become very famous — of other captains.
of renown^ and strengthened by a large body of Swi*, advanced
with singular rapidity. Some of Lodovico^s captains were
treacherous, others incapable, and the people rose against him ;
so that he had to arrange fur his flight before he had recovered
from his first reverses. He first sent away his two sons in the
care of his brother, Cardinal Ascanio, to whom he entrusted the
sum of 240,000 ducats. On the 2nd of September he followed
them himself into Germany.

On the nth of that month the French army marched into
Milan, where, iihortly afterwards, Louis XIL made his solemn
entry. When the ambassadors of the different Italian States
presented themselves before him, those of Florence were the most
favourably received, for, notwithstanding some occasional vaciila-
Ition, that Republic had ever remained faithful to France alike in.
I prosperity and ill fortune,

» Nariii, " Storin di Firenre/* vol. i. pp. 209^ 210.

LOUIS XII. IN ITALY.

267

I

The Flore ntint;i>, nevertheless, had many reasons for discon*
tent with the French captains who had remained behind in
Tiiscany, to whom they attributed the resistance of the
Pisans, and, in part, the unfortunate result of the siege that
had just compelled them to raise the camp and put to death
Paoio Vitelli. Butp instead of venting their anger in useless
complaints, they concluded a fresh treaty with the king in
Milan {19th October^ 1499). By this he was bound to assist them
by every means in the conquest of Pisa ; they^ on their side^
were to be prepared to send 400 men-at-arms and 3|000 foot*
soldiers to Milan^ and were to aid the Neapolitan expedition with
500 men-at-arms and 50^000 crowns. The surrender of Pisa was
to take place before the French went to Naples, and the Floren*
tines meanwhile were to restore to the king the sums of money
lent them by the Moor, according to an estimate to be made
by G, G, Trivulzio, after examination of the papers found at
Milan.* And likewise they were to take into their pay the
Prefect Giovanni della Rovere* brother of the Cardinal of San
Piero in Vincoli, whom the French wished to oblige.^

All these proceedings were suspended by new events* The
French, and more especially their general Trivulzio, who had been
made governor of Milan, had so greatly excited the discontent of
the peoplcj that when the Moor presented himself at the head of
8,cx>o recently-hired Swiss, and 500 men-at-arms, he was joyfully
received by the very men, who, a short time before, had expelled
him, and on the 5th of February he re-entered Milan. Trivulzio
had already quitted the city, but leaving a strong body of men to
guard the fortress ; he stationed 400 more at Novara, and then
advanced towards Mortara, where he stayed to wait for reinforce-
ments, while many even of his Swiss deserted to the Moor, who
gave higher pay. However, in April, 10,000 Swiss mercenaries^
under the command of La Treniouille, marched into Italy to assist
the French expedition. The hostile armies were already facing
each other in order of battle, when Lodovico's Swiss troops
declared that, having been hired as indi%'iduals they could not fight

^

* In the Florence Archives arc certain letlers sending Niccolo Machiavelli ta
Trivulzio, in order to fix these sums. But afterwards this idea was abandoned, the
letter!! were not dcspatcheti and he did not go.

* Molini, ** Documenti di Sioria ItalLina/' Firenre, 1836-37, voL i. pp. 32-36,
Desjardins gives a summary of the convention, extracted from the Florence
Archives* See *' Negociations,'* ike, voL ii. p. a6, note i.

268

MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

against the Helvetian flag borne by their compatriots whom Louis
XII. had taken into his employ by special agreement with the
Confederation itself. Thus they betrayed him in presence of the
enemy, and, under various pretexts, demanded their arrears of
pay upon the spot, without even waiting till he could receive
Italian reinforcements* All that the wretched duke could obtain
from them was permission to hide himself in their ranks, dis-
guised as a monk. But. whether by his own fear, or some fresh
treachery of the soldiers^ he was recognized and taken prisoner on
the loth of April, 1 500. The same fate befell several of his captains,
and his brother Ascanio, who, having fled from Milan, was be-
trayed by a friend to the Venetians, who in their turn gave him
up to the French, Thus, as Gualterotti had prophesied, the Moor
was indeed *^ smothered by his own sweepings,** and his fortunate
career was for e%'er at an end. When brought into Lyons as a
prisoner^ so great a multitude thronged to gaze upon him, that
force was required for his protection. Confined in the Castle
of Loches in Touraine, he died there after ten years of severe
imprisonment. Cardinal Ascanio was placed in the tower of
Bourges ; but regained his liberty after a time.

The king, whose past lexperience had taught him caution, sent
Georges d*Amboise^ — now a Cardinal — as governor to Milan, and
Cardinal de Rouen was summoned into Italy. He, thinking it
was ** better to fine than to sack,** condemned Milan to contribute
300,000 ducats towards the expenses of the war^ and levied pro-
portionate fines on the other cities, in this way exciting far less
discontent than Trivuhio. After this he made his entry into the
Lombard capital. The king soon followed, and was speedily
joined by the Florentine Ambassador, Tommaso Soderini, who
came to offer his congratulations, and to arrange about the
number of soldiers to be sent to Pisa according to the terms
already agreed upon. The number considered sufficient was 500
spearmen, 4^000 Swiss, and 2,000 Gascons, the former at the
expense of the French, the others with the artillery and waggons
to be paid for by the Florentines, at the rate of 24,000 ducats the
month/ These terms were extremely onerous to the Republic,
which had already assumed so many other obligations towards
France ; yet it submitted to everything in the hope that, with the

' Buonaccorsi (" Diario," p, 30) is very confused in fixing this sum, but we
believe that we have interpreted liim ncciiraiely ; Nardi (" Storia di Firenie,*"
-vol* i. p. 223) copie.^ Biiouaccorsi's account word for u-ord.

MACHIAVELLI AT THE CAMP BEFORE PISA. 269

aid of a strong army, it might be able to bring the enterprise to a
successful termination, at the cost of only two or three months^

pay.

But now the Florentines were to gain cruel experience from
their dealings with the French. The Cardinal de Rouen, who
was at the head of all things, tried to keep up the French army at
others' expense, and accortiingly demanded that payment should
commence in May, that is long before the troops were in Tuscany^
and also that their return journey should be paid. And to this it
was necessary to consent* It was only on the 22nd of June that
the Swiss and Gascons set out from Piacenza with twenty-two
falconets and six guns, commanded, at the request of the Floren-
tines, by Beaumont, instead of by Ives d'Alegre, w*hom the king
wished to appoint. This Beaumont, or Belmonte as he was
called, was the only one of the French leaders left in Tuscany,
who had kept faith. When governor of Leghorn, he had, accord-
ing to the stipulated terms, given it up to the Florentines, who^
for that reason, had confidence in him alone. The new Swiss and
Gascon mercenaries advanced very slowly, fining and pillaging all
the places upon the road, for their own benefit, or that of their
king, although they had already received their pay. When the
roll-call was counted at Piacenza, it was found that there were
twelve hundred more than had been agreed for, and these extra
troops also had to be paid.* The conduct of these people would
be inexplicable, did we not know what mercenaries were in those
days, and if we had not already stated that Cardinal de Rouen, in
order to spare the purse of his economical sovereign, tried all
means of extorting money both from friends and enemies. They
^■halted at Bologna to levy a requisition upon Bentivoglio ; in
^f Lunigiana— to the entire disapproval of the Florentines — they
despoiled Alberigo Malaspina of part of his own state, at the insti-
gation of his brother Gabriello, to whom they surrendered it.
They took Pietrasanta^ but did not fulfil their contract of handing
it over to the Florentines. Besides this, the riots, tumults, and
threatening demonstrations got up by them, in order to obtain

^

' Buonaccorsit in his ** Diario,^' tells us thai the number of the Swiss was fixed
at 5,000, bul thai there were 2,000 more to whom it was necessar)' lo give two
months* pay. In the *' Impresa contra Pisa, ec^^ ('* Archivio Storlco," voL iv,
jjart iL p. 404) J it is staled instend that 4,000 Swiss and 2,000 Gascons was the
stipulated number ; but thai, there being 1,200 more, il was necessary to give
Lhem a month's pay, in order lo make them go back to their own country.

syo

MACHIAVELLVS LIFE AND TIMES.

provisions, with which » however, they were never content, were
something incredible.

The Republic had sent Giovanni Battista Bartohni as Com-
missary to the Camp, with orders to prepare everything, bu
warned of the violent insolence of foreign troops, it also sent two
special commissioners, Luca dcgli Albizzi and Giovan Battista
Ridolfi, with Niccolo Machiavelh as their secretary. The mission
entrusted to them was extremely arduous, for they had to accom-
pany the army on the march, and satisfy the insatiable appetite of
these famished hordes, who, at the end of a meal, were hungrier
than at the beginning. Their route was to Pistoia and Pescia,
and with brief despatches they kept the Signory informed of their
movements. On the 1 8th of June they met the army at Camaiore,
and accompanied it to Cascina where they arrived on the 25rd,
Here threatening complaints were soon heard respecting a pre-
tended scarcity of provisions, and especially of wine.' Giovan
Battista Ridolfi, who had always been opposed to asking or
accepting aid of the French, from whom no good was to be
expected, hurried away from the camp at the first outbreak
of disorder, with the pretext of laying before the Signory the
true state of the matter and procuring speedy remedies. But
Luca degli Albizzi, a man of almost foolhardy couragCj remained
behind with Machiavelli among the mutinous troops without once
losing his presence of mind. To some one who advised him to
lodge at a little distance from the camp, he replied^ — " He who is
afraid may go back to Florence,*' * and marched on with the army.

' One of Albiizi's letters, written on the 2^\h of June, was dated : •* Ex terri-
Miihus Gall&rtitn fostris,^* which shows that then the disorder was very great
This letter, which has never been published, is in the Florence Archives* and like
the greater part of those sent by the Comnmdonerst is in Machiavelli*s handwriting.
It is of little interest.

' Among the " Carte del Machiflvelli" (case !» No* 83) is a narrative of the events
occurring at this time, written by Biagio Bnonaccorsi and Agostino Vespucci, who
were both in the Chancery, and compiled for the uses of their office. At one point
Buonaccorsi stales, that AlbiMi was unwilling to allow Ridolli to go, not wishing
to remain alone in the aimp» and on the margin we find this note in another hand,
Meniiris BiasL And when the writer says that Albizzi*s presence of mind was
shown in all his actions, the same hand has written on the margin, Jmrnc Umt-
rarie. And Buonaccorsi. in his ''Impresa contro Pisa," has rendered the amplest
testimony of praise to Albixzi's well-known courage. We cannot agree with
Passerini in attributing to Machiavelli the two marginal notes. Moved by thai
idea, he has published a fragment of the narrative in the 3rd volume of the
•»Opere"(P*M.),

MACHIAVELLI AT THE CAMP BEFORE PISA. 271

When envoys from Pisa arrived, offering to give up the city to the
French^ pro\ided they would hold it twenty-five or thirty days
before surrendering it to the Florentines, Beaumont wished to
accept ; but Albizzi refused in the name of the Signoria, saying,
that in a month many changes might take place, and that now,
being prepared for war, warlike means must be employed.'

At last on the 2gth of June the army arrived before the walls of
Pisa, numbering 8,000 men» who were still threatening mutiny
because of the scarcity of provisions j nevertheless they planted
their tents at nighty and placed their guns in position. Albizzi,
i-who was always among them, did all that he could to see that
everything necessary was furnished, and did not lose hearty
although seeing v^ry clearly that from one moment to another
he might find himself in the greatest peril. ^"If it be possible to
send us some bread, you will restore our soul to our body," wrote
he on the 30th of June to the Commissary Bartolini, who was
then in Cascina.=^ That same day they began to fire on the town,
and continued firing till late in the afternoon, by which time some
thirty yards of wall had been thrown down. This was the
rooment to give the assault and finish the affair, but it was then
seen that the Pisanshad dug a trench behind the wall, and thrown

p works on the other side, from whence they returned the
€re ; so that it was impossible to proceed further. And thus once
more, at the \'ery moment when the city seemed on the point of
being taken, the enterprise ended in smoke. The besieging army
lost courage, and began to retire again, rioting about the scarcity
or bad quality of the rations j and so great was the confusion in
the ranks, that Beaumont informed Albizzi that he could no
Jonger answer for the success of the campaign, and threw the
blame of everything on the bad arrangements of the Florentines.
And no protestations nor assurances sufficed to change his
opinion.^

^

* At a lalcr period Machiaveili in bis ** Discorsi sopra la prima Deca di Tito
Livio '' (bk. i* chap, xxxviii.), blamed this proceeding of the Florentines ; but Ibis
15 not the place to turn our attention to that point. We will merely observe that
in those that may be called his theoretical writings, he often quotes historical facts
in bis own way, and for some special leason or aim, as we shall see hereafter,
= This letter, to be mentioned hereafter, is in the Florence Archives,
3 Buonaccorsi, *" Diario,*' p. 32 andTol. See also ihe " Imprcsa contro Pisa,"
ty the same, p. 413 and fol. Jaeopo Nardi, who copies from the '* Diario,** adds
that ihe French went so far as to bide the bread and wine, in order to have pre-
texts for complaint, Nardi, " Storia di Firenze," voL i. p. 227.

«72

MACHIAVELLVS LIFE AND TIMES.

On the yth of July the Gascon soldiers deserted en masse^ upon
which Albizzi wrote to BartoUni that they were to be treated as
enemies. And on the following day he wrote to the Signory, that
the Swiss had forced their way into his room, clamouring for
money and threatening to pay themselves with his blood. ^* The
French appear frightened, they make excuses and calm themselves
with cold water ; the Commander Beaumont himself has lost hi.%
head^ but always insists upon having his pay* I have refrained
hitherto from worrying your Excellences in vain ; but now it is
absolutely necessary to decide what is to be done wnth these people
and take measures accordingly. It might also be well to think
whether it is desired that my life should be saved/* " Let not
your Excellences think that cowardice moves me in this, since by
no means would I flee from any peril, that should be deemed
indispensable by my city/' '

Albizzi's presentiments were realized on the following day.
Machiavelli, by whose pen the greater part of the^e letters were
written, wrote from the camp in his own name, that towards
three o'clock a hundred Swiss had presented themselves to demand
money, and being unable to obtain it, had seized upon Albizzi as
their prisoner. =* They dragged him upon foot to the quarters of
the Baily of Dijon, and from thence he wrote the same day to say
that he was disputing for his life from hour to hour, in the midst
of soldiery brandishing their halberds threateningly in his face.
They also insisted that he should give pay to a company of about
five hundred Swiss who had come from Rome, and to this most
unreasonable request he had energetically refused to consent.
But even in these critical moments he remained calm, and gave
some useful advice in the same letter ; he could not, howev^er,
refrain from bitter complaints of having been abandoned *Mike a
lost and rejected person. If with nought else, let God at least
console me by death." ^ But he could not obtain his liberation

» This letter signed by Atbizzi, and wriUen in his own hand, is the first of those
printed in the ** Cormni*isionc in campo contro i Pi&ani.*' Machiavelli, ** Opere/*
vol. vi. p. 32.

* Dated : £x castris apud Pisas^ die nonafuliiy h&ra 14, is ihe second of those
that are printed, and is to be found with the others in the Florence Archives. It
is addressed to the Signory ; and bears the inscription :

^ito.
f ito.

v^ito.

^ This is the fourth of the published letters.

MACHIAVELLI AT THE CAMP BEFORE PISA, 273

r

N

until he had signed a paper, with his personal security for the
payment of 1,300 ducats to the Swiss who had come from Rome.'
The army then dispersed, the men-at-arms being the last to
depart. Thus, after heavy expenses and heavy sacrifices, the
Florentines were left with a deserted camp, and with their enemies
the Pisans more audacious than before,* New commissioners,
however, Piero Vespucci and Francesco del I a Casa, were speedily
sent to ascertain what it was possible to do, both as regarded the
payment and gathering of fresh troops from the country round.
The king wrote various letters, regretting what had happened^
reproving the captains, threatening the soldiers, and promising to
reduce Pisa at any price. ^ But these were empty words quite

' Historians cliflTer slightly as to the i.»xact sum. It is, however, fixed in a letter
of the Signoria to Couryon. ** Carle ilel MachiavelH,*' case i. inscrio 8j» p. 6.

* See NaHi's '* Storia cli Firenze/' the ** Diario,'* and Buonaccorsrs previously
quoted '* Impresa contra Pisa/' &c.

^ See the printed edition of the '• Commi^sione.** ThLs^ besitles other documents,
contains in all four letters. The first and fourth are hy Albizzi, the second by
Machiavellir the third by Bartolini. Only that si^ed by .NIachiavelli is in his
handwriting, Pa&serini and Milanesi in their new edition of the " Opere/* reprint
these letters only, and at p. 51* vol. iit tell us that : '"It is necessary to explain
that we have not heen able to fulfil our wish of enlarging this series, because the
registers of the Signoria's corresixsmknce, as well as of thai of the Died, are lx)th
missing.'* So without aflding to the Commissioner^* letters they give other docu-
ments. But the Florence .\rchives contain many more unpublished letters of this
commission in the file ozfilza marked : Class x. tlist. 2» No. 44, or according to the
new cla-*isificalion : Sigttori, Carieggio, Fesponsivey reg. 1 7. A few others ate also
to be found in the 3rd file of the Stroxzi I'apcrs in the Archives.

These ineditcd letters are of no importance, but many are in Machiavclli's
handwriting, and signed fir^t by Albizzi and Ridolfi, then, after the lattcr*s
departure, by the former alone. In his hand are those of the loth func* from
Pistoia ; itth June, from Pescia; i8th June, from Camaiore ; 23rd June, from
Cascina ; 24th June, from near Cascina ; 24th June, from Cascina ; 27th
June, from near Campi. Also in his hand and of some interest, are those
of 26 ih June, near Campi : 29th June, rx GaUorttm castn's : 30th June, from
this camp (this is at sheet 159 of the 3rd file of the Strozjti Pa]XTs) ; 2nd July ; ^Ji"
Gaiiotum castris. Of no importance whatever are the letters dated : 4lh Jul}',
from the camp ; 6th July, from the camp (in this there is only a shoit portion
written by Machiavelli) ; 7th July, from the camp (StTOMi Papers » 3rd file, sheet
160); from the camp without date (Slrozzi Papers, 3rd file, sheet 161) ; lilh July,
from Cascina {signed by the Commissioner Vespucci); t2th July, from Empuli
(with a postscript in Machiavelli's hand). In the Archives there are also other
letters belonging to this Commission, but not in Machiavelli' s hand. We give
none of these in the Appendix, not wishing to swell needlessly the number of the
letters printed.

For this commissionership to the camp before Pisa, Machiavelli receive<i six
broad gold florins, ** the which florins are bestowed upon you in remuneration for

VOL. I. 19

t74

MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

unsupported by deeds. He merely sent Duplessis, lord of Cour-
^on, styled by tbe Florentines Car con or Corco^ to inquire into
what had happened upon the spot, and to send in a Report.

But while this was going on, the Pisans made a sally from
behind their walls, captured Librafatta and soon after the Venlura
bastion, which had been constructed at so great an expense by
Vitelli. And in this manner they opened communications with
Lucca^ whence they received continual reinforcements, Cour^on,
it is true^ offered more soldiers to the Florentines in the King*s
name, saying that with their assistance, Florence might harass the
PisaQs by constant skirmishes during the winter, and thus reduce
them with greater ease as soon as the spring set in. But the
Republic would have nothing more to do with either French or
Swiss, much to the irritation of the King, who, disgusted with the
result of the campaign, in which his troops had reaped nothing but
dishonour, tried to throw the entire blame upon the Florentines.
They had» he said, insisted on taking Beaumont as their captain
instead of Ives d'Altgre whom he had proposed, and likewise
had neglected to victual the army or to give it regular pay. But
the real reason of his disgust was his inability to any longer
saddle Florence with the maintenance of part of his army. Indeed
so heavy were his threats as well as his complaints, and so dili-
gently did the enemies of the Republic blow upon the flame, that
k was thought necessary to send Messrs. Francesco della Casa and
Niccol6 Machiavelli as envoys to the French Courts since having
both followed the camp, they were in a position to give exact
information to the King and contradict all unjust and calumnious
accusations, while^ at the same time, they could announce the
speedy arrival of new ambassadors to make terms of agree-
ment,'

Up to the year 1498, Niccold Machiavelli had had little
experience of mankind or of the world ; his intellect had been
principally devoted to books, especially to the Latin authors and
the history of Rome, But during the two following years he had
gained much and rapid experience of real life and State affairs.
The Legation to Forli had given him his first initiation in the

the fetigiaes which you supported^ and the perils which you incurred." The doca-
naent rdaling to the gift was published by Passerinir **Opere" (P. M.), vol, i.

p. i«.

' Buonaccorsi, ** Diario '* and * ' Impresa," &c. ; Nardi, *' Storia de Flreiue ; '*
GuicciaidinJi ** Storia d' Italia," Pisa, Capurro, vol. iii* book v, p. 11.

HIS FIRST MISSION TO FRANCE.

275

^

P

V

intrigues of diplomacy^ the Vitelli affair and the engagement of
the Swiss soldiery had inspired him with a contempt almost
amounting to hatred for all mercenary troops. His father's death,
which took place on the 19th of May, 1500, four years after that
of his mother^ and only a few months before the loss of a sister,
made him as it were the head of his family — although he was
not the eldest son — and increased his cares and responsibilities*
His journey to France opened up a new field of observation ^ and
enlarged his mental horizon, the more too, since, in consequence
of the illness of his colleague, the whole weight of the unpretend-
ing, but not unimportant mission devolved upon him.'

On the 1 8th of July, 1500, the decision or decree was passed for
sending Delia Casa and Machiavelli to the King, Written instruc-
tions were supplied charging them to convince the monarch that
all the disorders at the camp had been solely caused by the fault
of his own troops, and to try to persuade him to reduce his unjust
and exorbitant claims for sums of money, in anticipation of the
conquest of Pisa. Their first efforts were to be made upon the
Cardinal de Rouen, and they were carefully to avoid all injurious
mention of \{i% prntkgk the Captain Beaumont. ** If, however," so
wrote the Signory, ** you should notice any disposition to listen to
things to his prejudice^ you may attack him with energy and accuse
him of cowardice and corruption." ^

Lorenzo Lenzi, already established for some time with Fran-
cesco Gualterotti, the Florentine ambassador in France^^ re-

* On the first sheet of one of the Registers of the Ten (Florence Archives,
** Letiere de' Dieci di Balia dal 1500 al 1501," class x. dist, 3, No- 93), is the foU
lowing itii»ciiption %—^' This book is of the Commune and relates to war matters
infra dominium, scripto, for the second chancery, cuius caput est Nicolaus
Machiavellus, qui hodie mittitur ad regem Francorum a dominatiane Franciscas
Delia Casa ibidem, XVI 11. Julii 1500, die Sabh/* &c. \n the same way when he
was at the camp before Pisa, we find written at the h«id of another register !
'* Hie emnt literae de rebus bellicis scriptae per magnificum dominum Marcellum
ad commissarios in castris quo tempore Nicolaus Maclavellus fuit apud commis-
saries/' See vol, vi* of the " Opere,'* p. 32, note i.

* See the commission and the instructions at the commencement of the legation,
** Opere," vol. vi, pp. 48 and foL

3 The Florentines, after having sent three ambassadors in June, 149S, to con-
gratulate the King upon his ascension to the throne, elected Francesco Gualtcrotli
and Lxjrenzo Lend on the iSth of September, 1 499. Salviati was also sent with
I them as far as Milan to congratulate the King upon his victoryt and if the terms

I for the Pisan affair were not yet signed, to obtain the royal signature. The two

I ambassadors then went to France in the suite of the King» who left Milan on the

^H 32nd of November, 1499. See Des jar dins, " N^gociations," he.

376

MACHIAVELLVS LIFE AND TIMES.

peated almost the same advice. They were at liberty to speak
ill of the Italians at the camp, but only *^ as by a slip of the
tongue/' could they be permitted to accuse the real criminals,^
Therefore to avoid arousing the insolence of the French, it was
necessary to steer cautiously between Scylla and Charybdis. And
to these difficulties was added that of the very modest social*
position of the two envoys, who were neither wealthy nor well
paid. To Francesco della Casa a stipend of eight lire per day was
assigned, and Machiavelli, ha\'ing a post of inferior rank, only
succeeded in obtaining an equal sum, after much difficulty and
many complaints of incurring 3 enormous expenses no lighter
than those of his colleague.* Even then he had to disburse a
great deal more than he received. His forty ducats ver)^ speedily
vanished, and he had to commission his brother to obtain
seventy more for him on loan. Being compelled to follow the
monarch from city to city, it was requisite to provide himself with
servants and horses, and although on starting, the envoys had
eighty florins each, they soon got through one hundred ducats^
since it proved impossible to find decent board and lodging
for less than a crown and a half a day^ a larger sum than that
which they received. Therefore both grumbled sorely, ^ especially
Machiavelli, who was not rich, and yet had no talent for economy.
Meanwhile, the two envoys on reaching Lyons on the 38th of
Julyj found that the King had already started. They caught him
up at Nevers, and after having spoken with the Cardinal de Rouen,
both were granted an audience on the 7th of August, in the
presence of the Cardinal, of Rubertct, Trivulzio and others. A
third of the Court consisted of Italians who were all very discon-
tented and desirous that the French army should speedily cross

* Machiavelli, '' OperCt" vol. vi. p. 54.
' In this letter of the 30th of July, Machiavelli says, ** We being men of XKrT

money and no credit,

3 On the 27th of August, 1500, Toito writes to his brother Niccol6 Machiavelli,
that after a fortnight of continued efforts the Si^ori had consented to equalize
the salaries. He adds that he had spent eleven florins for him in the spring, and
afterwards sent him fifty more. This letter is among the *' Carle del Machiavelli,"
case I, No. 8, and has been published by Nitti, in his work, *' Machiavelli nella
vita e nelle dottrine/' vol, i. p, 89. The increase of stipend alluded to, only began
from the 28th of August, as may be seen by the accounts in the archives (class-
xiil dist, 6, No» 64* a, c. 90).

* Letter of the 12th of August, signed by Machiavelh' only.

* See letters of the 29th of August and jrd of September.

MtUAL o¥ ton: A) twNtiErt vi.

HIS FIRST MISSION TO FRANCE.

277

^

the Alps again,* The facts having been related, no sooner was
an attempt made to blame the French soldiery, than the King and
his supporters *^ quickly changed the conversation," = All was to
be laid to the charge of the Florentines. Louis XIL, for the sake
of his own dignity, wished to conclude the Pisan expedition, and
therefore the necessary funds must be supplied. The reply of the
orators was, that the resources of the Republic being exhausted,
and the people displeased by recent events, it would be impossible
to procure those funds. It might however be possible to obtain
them at the end of the campaign, after the surrender of Pisa. But
thereupon all cried aloud with one voice that this was a most
unseemly proposal, for the King could not pay the expenses of the
Florentines, And from day to day matters went on after the same
fashion. Louis wished to send soldiers whom the Florentines
refused to take ; he complained that the Swiss did not receive the
amount fixed, and would not listen when it was replied that
neither did they give the services promised. The Cardinal 3
irritably iosisted on his view of the case,* and Courcjon, who had
just returned from Tuscany, so aggravated matters, that their
aspect became threatening. **The French,** wrote the two
orators, **are blinded by their own power, and only think those
who are armed or ready to give money worthy of their esteem,
They see that these two quahties are wanting in you, so they look
upon you as Sir Nihil, ascribing the impossibihty to your disunion,
and the dishonesty of their own army to your bad government.
The ambassadors resident here have gone away, nor do we hear

' There is a description of ihe Royal Court in llie second letter of the 12th of
August,

' Letter of the 7th of August.

3 It is evident from the letter of the Mth of Au^sl that the Cardinal dc Rouen
did not know Italian, for the two orators were obliged to translate an Italian
letter into French for him. Neither did the King know Italian^ but Rul)ertet
spoke it.

* According to a letter of the Signory, dated joth of July, 1500, addressed to
Ixualterotti and Lcnzi, Cour^on had only passed one evening in the canip» " so that
"Wc do not perceive how after so short a stay he can be able to satisfy his Majesty
the Kingal»out the investigation of the causes and the authors of the disorders
-which had there ocairred *' (** Carte del Nfachiavelli/' case i, inserto^ 83, No. 4).
Pasi>erini gives it in the ** Opcre " (P. M.), voL iii. p. Ill, as a letter of the Ten ;
but the Ten had not as yet been re-nominated. It is also slated in this letter, that
when the Florentines explained to Cour^on their reasons for not believing them-
selves obliged to pay the Germans, he had answered that *' it was brain-splitting
work to try and reason with Germans," The Germans alluded to were the German
Swiss.

irs

MACHIAVELLI'S LIFE AND TIMES,

that new ones are coming. Our degree and quality, on an
unwelcome errand, do not suffice to bring sinking things to the
surface.' The King therefore is highly displeased, always lamenting
having had to pay the Swiss 3 8^000 francs, which according to the
CoDvention of Milan, you ought to hav^e paid, and he threatens to
erect Pisa and the neighbouring territory into an independent
State." ' Then, as a piece of good advice, they suggested that the
Republic ** should try to obtain by bribery some friends in France
who would be stirred by more than natural affection, since that is
what has to be done by all who have affairs at this Court, And
he who refuses to do it is like one who would win a suit without
feeing his attorney." 3

Up to the 14th of September the letters were always signed by
both envoys, though nearly all were written by Machtavelli, But
on that day the King left Alelun, and Delia Casa, being ill, went
to Paris for advice ; so that Machiavelli was left alone to continue
the journey, and pursue the mission, which, after the 26th of
September, increased in its importance, and extended over a wider
field. He did not conftne himself to the one affair^ with which he
was encharged, but investigated the various questions bearing upon
Italian policy, and sent precise details of everything, first to the
Signory^ and then to the Ten, who were re-elected during this
period ; and he showed so much zeal, so much ardour in all these
matters, that occasionally he almost seemed to lose sight of the
special and very limited object of his mission. By the use, now of
Latin and now of French — for neither King nor Cardinal could
speak Italian — he conv^ersed with both and questioned every one.
And now for the first time the penetration and originality of his
intellect, the power and marvellous vigour of his style, began to
be manifest. While travelling wdth the Cardinal de Rouen, and
finding him still inflexible regarding the money, he turned the
conversation upon the army which the Pope was forming, with the
help of France, to forward the designs of Valentinois. And he
was able to discover, ^' that if the King had conceded everything
for the expedition in Romagna, it was rather because he knew not
how to withstand the unbridled desires of the Pope, than from any
real desire for his success.*' *

'' Yet/* continued Machiavelli, '* the more does he fear Germany^
90 much the more he favours Rome, because there is the well-armed

> Letter of the sjih of August. ^ Letter of the 29th of August, from MeLun*

3 Letter of the I4ih of September* *> Letters of the 2od and 8th of October..

HIS FIJ^ST MISSION TO FRANCE.

279

head of Religion, and also because he is urged in that direction
by the Cardinal ^ who, knowing himself to have many enemies
here, the direction of all things being in his hands, hopes to
receive efficacious protection from that quarter/' But whenever
he touched upon money matters, the Cardinal fell into fresh fury,
and threateningly said, ** that the Florentines knew how to reason
finely, but would repent of their obstinacy in the end/* '

After this, fortunately, the aspect of affairs began to greatly
improve, owing tn the election of a new ambassador. Pier Fran-
cesco Losinghi, with much wider powers, and the permission
obtained by the Signory from the Councils for granting a fresh
sum of money ; thus Machiavelli had less difficulty in calming the
French wrath and continuing his discourses upon general politics.
He even obtained an explicit assurance that Valentinois would not
be allowed to injure Tuscany.* But on the 21st of November he
learnt from a friend that the Pope was doing his best to make
mischief, asserting that he should be able, with the expected aid
of the Venetians, to replace Piero dei Medici in Florence, and
that Piero would speedily pay any amount of money the King
wished. His Holiness also promised to deprive Bentivoglio of his
state, while as to Ferrara and Mantova, who showed so much
liking for Florence, he would ^* bring their necks under the yoke/'

Upon hearing this, Machiavelli instantly went to seek the
Cardinal, and finding him at leisure^ was able to speak with him
at length. To combat the Pope^s calumnies of the Florentines,
he dwelt "not upon their good faith, but upon its being theii
interest to side with the French, The Pope tries hy all means
to compass the destruction of the King's friends, to wrest Italy
from his hands with greater ease/^ ** But His Majesty should
follow the method of those who have before wished to possess a
foreign province, which is, to abase the powerful, caress their
subjects, maintain friends, and beware of comrades, that is, of
those who desire equal authority in such a place." ^* And certainly
it is not the Florentines^ neither is it Bologna nor Ferrara, who
desire to mate with the King ; but rather those who have always
pretended to the domination of Italy, namely, the Venetians, and
above al!^ the Pope/' The Cardinal gave affable attention to these

* Letters of the nth of October, from BloLs. By this letter it is shown that
Machiavelli was accustomed to speak Laiin with the Cardinal tie Rouen^

* L-ctler of the 4th of November from Nantes. It seems that thk con versn lion
was heltl in French*

28o MACHIAVELLI'S LIFE AND TIMES.

theories which the modest secretary, warming as he went on,
expounded almost in the accents of a master, and replied that the
King " had long ears and short belief ; that he listened to all, but
believed in nothing but that which he could touch with his
hand."' And this may have been the occasion when, the Cardinal
having said that the Italians knew nothing about war, Machiavdli
made the reply that the French knew nothing of statesmanship,
"for understanding that, they would never have allowed the
Church to attain to so much greatness." »

On the 24th of November he wrote the two final despatches of
this Legation. By that time the progress of Valentinois had
become very threatening, and the Florentines, in their keen
anxiety on that head, had not only hastened the departure of
the new ambassador, but promised the representatives of France
that they would shortly send money to the king. The latter
therefore waited more patiently, and sent special orders to
Valentinois, forbidding him to attack either Bologna or Florence.
Having given this news in his first letter, Machiavelli wrote the
second on the same day, to recommend the suit of a certain Giulio
de Scruciatis,3 a Neapolitan, against the heirs of the Bandini
family in Florence. ** De Scruciatis had rendered and might
again render useful services to the Republic. I know nothing,"
he continued, " of this lawsuit of his ; but I do know that while
your standing with his French Majesty is so airy and precarious,
few can help you, and all can injure you. Wherefore it is
necessary to soothe him with smooth words, otherwise at the first
letter of yours that comes here, he will be like a thunderbolt in
this court ; " '' and the evil he may say will be believed more
easily than any good that he may have said ; furthermore, he is a

* Letter of the 21st of November. This is addressed to the Ten who had
already been re-elected, on which matter Machiavelli had congratulated them in
his letter of the 2nd of October. '^ " Principe," at the end of chap. iii.

■* In Florence he was known as Scurcigliato, Scorciato, or Scruciato, and so
even Machiavelli calls him in his letters. He belonged to the De Scruciatis family
of Castelluccio, Neapolitan nobles ; he was a judge of the Vicaria, counsellor of
Santa Chiara, fiscal advocate, and was one of those who had passed judgment on
Antonello Petrucci, and the other meml)ers of the conspiracy of the l)arons.
Ferdinand of Naples held him for one of his most faithful instruments, and made
frequent use of him in the commission of his principal iniquities. Later, however,
on the decline of the Aragonese fortunes, De Scruciatis forsook them in favour of
the French, who, in 1499, named him a Roman senator. He afterwards followed
the French camp, held many iwsts and filled missions even in Tuscany, committed
rascalities of many descriptions, and ended in Rome as an inquisitor of the Holy
Office.

BIS FIRST MISSIOiV TO FRANCE.

281

t

of some credit, very daring, loquaciouS| persistent, terrible,
and being without measure in his passions, is capable of effecting
somewhat in all that he undertakes.-' And having written these
tilings Machiavelli made ready to leave France.

The reader will have perceived how in certain portions of these
despatches, a foreshadowing— if as yet misty — of the author of the
Discorsi " and the ** Principi '^ is already apparent. Those
maxims, afterwards expounded by Machiavelli in a scientific shape,
^vare here hurriedly sketched with an uncertain touch, and as it
^■were by chance ; in succeeding despatches we shall see them
^■gradually assuming a firmer outline, and clearer development*
^■Ev^en his style now began to acquire the vigour, that was soon
^f to enable him to paint true and living men with a few strokes of
r his pen, to express his thoughts with truly wonderful lucidity,
and hence to deserve his universally acknowledged title of the

»lirst of Italian prose writers. It will therefore surprise no one
to learn that this mission to France brought great honour to
^lachiareili in Florence, and that Buonaccorsi, as far back as the
^3rd of August, wTote to tell him with unfeigned joy, that his
despatches had been highly commended by the most influential
<:itizens/ Yet in August he was still with Delia Casa, who, as
chief envoy, placed his signature first. We may therefore well

» imagine that the Republic was increasingly satisfied with its
iiecretary.
On his return home, Machiavelli applied himself with his usual
ardour to his office work, and the registers of tlie chancery were
^^ again filled day by day with his letters. Business was soon
^■<arried on with greater regularity, either because he exercised
^^ much authority over his subordinates, or because the Ten now re-
<eltcted, — who had been chosen among those most experienced in
military matters, — were less distracted by other cares, and remained
in office six months, instead of two only, like the Signory. Also,
by the decree of the i8th of September, 1500, which replaced
them in office, their attributes were better defined and restricted ;
they could no longer, of their own authority, make peace, form a
league or engage troops for more than one week, and in all im-
portant matters, required the sanction of the ^Eighty before
pronouncing their decision.*

^ This letter of Buonaccorsi is inclutledi like his oLhers, among the '* Carte del
^.Machiavelli " (case 1, No. 7).

Florence Archives: " Consigli Maggiori, Provvisiorii," register 191, at sheet

CHAPTER IV.

TumuUs in PUtoicu whulicr McichiavcUi is sent^Valcndnois in Tuscany ; I he
ContloUa stipulated with the Florentines by him — New French anny in Iialy
^Fresh riots in Pistoia, and Machiavetii again sent there — The war with
Pisa goes on^Kebellion of Areizo, and the Val di Chiana — Machiavclli and
Bishop Soderiiii despatched to Valenlmois's Court at Urbino — The French
come to assist in putting dowTi disorders in Arezzo—** On the melhoi of
treating the rebellious population of the Val di Chiana ^'^-Creation of a.
Gonfalonier for life.

(l 501-1502.)

esi^

HERE was certainly no lack of public busini
although the hostilities with Pisa were some-
what slackened. At Pistoia the bloody
conflicts between the Cancellieri and the
Panciatichi had assumed the gravest pro-
portions ; the Panciatichi ha\4ng been driveir
from the city^ which was still subject to
Florence^ but ever on the e%^e of rebellion. To restore order
therefore it was ncnressary to send special commissioners^ men and
arms. MaGhla\'elli not only conducted the correspondence, gave
orderS| was applied to for advice by the Signory and the Ten ; but
had frequently to go in person to Pistoia. And it is there that
we find him in Februar)^ and June^ in order to see for himself
and report upon the state of things.

Many luembers of both factions were confined in Florence, all
the others requested to return to Pistoia ; that commune binding
itself to defend them and indemnify them for all fresh injury, by
the payment of a large sum of money for which the offenders
would be liable, according to a decree of the Signory and the^

VALENTINOIS IN TUSCANY,

283

Ten, in date of the 28th of April, 1501.' The Pistoians wished
to banish the Panciatichi, on account of their known hostility
to Florence ; but, on the 4th of May, Machiavelli wrote to
them in the name of the Signory, that it would be highly
dangerous to keep the Cancellieri within the town and the
Panciatichi without, since thus they might suddenly ** lose all
the city or ail its territory, and perhaps both togethefi the one
being full of malcontents^ the other full of suspicion." In con-
clusioni he insisted on the immediate execution of the orders of
the government, and bade them employ the forces sent there, to
compel the Panciatichi to re-enter the town unarmed and ensure
their being kept under surveillance,^

Heavier anxieties soon assailed Florence from another quarter,
Valentinois, prevented from attacking Bologna by the French
prohibition, now turned towards Tuscany, and having seized upon
Bersighella, the key of the Val di Lamone, and gained the
assistance of Dionigi Naldi,^ a military man with influential
connections in those parts, had the whole district at his mercy,
lo threatening terms he next requested free passage through the
territories of the Republic, alleging that he wished to lead his
troops back to Rome. And the Florentines, knowing with whom
they had to deal, sent to him a certain Piero Del Bene, one of his
own personal friends, sent a commissary of war to Castrocaro on
the frontier, and despatched a special envoy to Rome to inform
the French ambassador of all that had happened : at the same
time they prepared 20,000 ducats^ to be forwarded to Louis XII,,

■ Published by Passerini in the "Opere'' (P. M.), vol iii. p. 279, The sum
was 5cx> florins, half of which went to ihe injured |>ariies, a fourdi to the magis-
trate who exacted it, the other fourth for the repairs of the Pistoia fortresses. Se«
also the »*SQinmario delJa Ckta" and the '* Sommario del Contado," included
among the *' Carte del Machiavelh " (case I, No. 12), and pulilkhcd by Passenni,
**Opere '* (P.M. )» vol. iii. p, 355, They consist of the measures decreed and the
rales to be followed for the restoration of order in the city and its territory. They
are official dociimenis of no literary value, and should not be included among
MachiavelU^s Workii, not being even written by his pen.

' " Opcre '* (P. M.), vol. iii. p. 299. The letter also contains other orders and
dctaiLs not in Machiavelli's hand. His signature is appended to this and other
letters published by Pas^erini, It muut, however, Ije observed that Machiavelli*s
signature, which very often is in anotber^s handwriting, is merely used in these
cases to indicate the head of the office, and thus is appended lo letters written by
his coadjutors, as well as to those written by himself^ It is therefore necessary to
Gcamine the handwriting.

' Called indifferently Dkniiii Naldi^ Naldo^ and di Nalda,

* See the letter of the Ten dated the 3rd of May, *' Oiicre *' (P. M.), vol. iii.
p, 298*

284 MACHIAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES.

to make him — as in fact it did make him — more decidedly
favourable to their cause. Meanwhile a thousand different
rumours were afloat : the Siennese and Lucchese were sending
continual reinforcements to Pisa, where Oliverotto, one of
Valentinois's officers, had marched in with a few horsemen ; the
Vitelli were helping the Panciatichi to revenge themselves upon
their enemies, and so on, and so on. All these matters had to be
attended to, and Machiavelli did the work of several men, writing
letters and issuing orders to captains, commissaries and magistrates.*
Fortunately, however, news arrived from France, with promises of
certain aid, and thus the Republic had a respite from its worst
anxieties during the month of May.

But Valentinois continued his attempts. News reached
Florence that the Orsini and the Vitelli were already menacing
the frontiers ; that a certain Ramazzotto, an old adherent of the
Medici, had presented himself in Firenzuola, demanding the State
in the name of the Duke, and of Piero dei Medici.* And men's
minds were so stirred in Florence by these events, that there was
even a talk of creating a Balla with extraordinary powers, and,'
although this was not done, necessary measures were taken to
defend the city from any sudden attack. Irregular native troops
who had been summoned from the Mugello and the Casentino and
were commanded by the abbot Don Basilio, were stationed all
round Florence ; others arrived from Romagna ; and more men
were collected within the walls. Machiavelli was the life and soul
of these military movements, and devoted himself to them with
a zeal that was most singular in a literary man of his stamp.
But in fact — contrary to the prevailing opinion of the time — ^he
had lost all faith in mercenary troops, and these irregulars seeming
to him the germ of a national militia, destined to defend their
country, after the manner of the ancient Romans, this was enough
to inflame his enthusiasm.

When all these arrangements were concluded, ambassadors
were sent to the Duke, giving him permission to pass through
the territories if he chose ; but with small bodies of men at the

» An enormous number of letters were written by Machiavelli during these
months, and they exist in his handwriting in the Florence Archives. We only
quote from a few of those in the file which is countersigned : class x. disL 3, No,
95, at sheets 12, 18, 30, 92, 103, 163, 183, cS:c.

« Nardi, *• Storia di Firenze," vol. i. p. 239 ; Buonaccorsi, " Diario.'*

3 Guicciardini, *• Storia Fiorentina," chap. xxii. p. 237.

STIPULATIONS WITH VALENTINOIS.

*8S

I

time, and without the Orsini or the Vitelli. Upon this he angrily
advanced through the Mugello, his soldiers pillaging as they went,
and insulting ever)* one ; for which reason the popular irritation
rose to a high pitch both in town and country, and there was
universal outcry against the ** asinine patience " of the magistrates
who had the greatest trouble to prevent a general rising against
that army of freebooters.* At last the Duke^ seeing how dangerous
a turn matters were taking and knowing that the Florentines
were really under the protection of the French, declared that he
wished to be on terras of sincere friendship with them, and would
accept an engagement as their captain. He added, however, that
they must grant him free passage to continue his expedition
against Piombino, and must also change their form of govern-
ment and recall Piero dei Medici, as a guarantee that they would
carry out their promises.

In order to combat these pretensions, the Florentines first of all
armed another th<:msand men within the city, insisting on greater
zeal and watchfulness on all sides ; then they sent Caesar their
reply. As regarded the Piombino expedition, he was^ they told
him, at liberty to continue his march, but as for changing their
government, he might hold his tongue about it, for that was no
business of his, and no one in Florence would have aught to do
with the Medici. Whereupon Valentinois, on his arrival at
Campi, without alluding to other subjects, let it be known that
he would be satisfied with a condotta, or engagement, of 36,000
ducats annually for three years, without obligation of active ser-
vice, but always in readiness to supply 300 men-at-arms in case
of emergency. In short, after the usual fashion of the Borgia^
other things failing, he determined at least to have money.
The Florentines, in order to be rid of him, signed a convention
on the 15th of May, 1501, granting the condotta and concluding
a perpetual alliance with him.* They hoped to avoid paying him

■ Naurdi, "Storia di Fireoie," voL i. p. 24^.

* ** Archivio Storico/' vol. xv. p. 269, According to this convention the Duke
was to be ready to bring 300 men-at arms for the defence of the Repubbci on any
emergency ; for other enterprises he was to receive three months' notice, and was
not bound to come jn person ; he might, however, be obliged to accompany the
French on the expedition to Naples, This last clause suited the Duke^s purpose,
since he knew that he must go with the French in any case, and he would thus
receive his money without added obligations ; \\ also suiteti the Florentines, since,
being pledged to assist the king with mfn-at-armSi they mighti when necessaiyy
fulfil both compacts with the same sum of money.

3S6

MACHIAVELU'S LIFE AND TIMES.

a farthmg, and the Duke, although aware of this, accepted the terms,
because, were the money not forthcoming, he would have a good
♦excuse for further aggressions at the first convenient opportunity.
Meanwhile he went on his way sacking and pillaging, and reached
Piombino on the 4th of June* There he could do nothing but
seize a few neighbouring domains and the island of Pianosa ; he
then crossed over to Elba with some ships sent by the Pope.*
But he was spet;dily recalled to the mainland to join the French
who were returning from the Neapolitan war ; and then, leaving
the few places he had conquered well garrisoned, he hurried to
Rome, entering it as a conqueror, although his campaigns had
been rather those of a freebooter than of a mihtar>' chief.

But if the Neapolitan war freed the Republic of the Duke's
presence, it entailed evils and anxieties of another kind. The
French army was composed of 1,000 lances and 10,000 infantry,
4,000 of whom were Swiss, exclusive of a force of 6,000 men, who
were coming by sea ; they advanced in two bodies, one of which,
with the larger portion of the artillery, marched by Pontremoh
and Pisa, while the other, coming down by Castrocaro, was to
^traverse nearly the whole of Tuscany. Besides these, smaU
bodies of the Duke's men under Oliverotto di Fermo, Vitellozzo
Vitelli and other captains, came straggling in the rear, either
pillaging as they passed, or going to Pisa to help the rebels. It
was therefore necessar^^ to write to the v^arious Commissaries and
Podestas, instructing them to furnish provisions for the army, and
defend themselves from the roving soldier)^ ; it was also necessary
to find 12,000 ducats to satisfy the French who were always de-
manding money on the pretext of arrears owing to the Swiss who
had served the Republic so badly.* Machiavelli entered into all

' Buonaccorsi in bis **Dmrio *^ (pp. 44 and 45) docs not speak of the journey to
Elba; Nardi, however, menlions it^ and also Giiicciardini in his '* Storia d' Italia."
Bvit the laUer, in his **Storia Fiorentina " (chap. iii. p, 244)^ says that it was then
thai Valentinois drove away the Lord of PiumbmOj an event which took place later.

* In the Florence Archives are many letters of this period, also written by
Machiavelli^ which are still inedited. We call attention to a few only. On the
18th of Maybe announces the Condotta concluded with Valentinois (CL x, dist. 3»
No. 96t sheet 23), On the 28th of the same month (at sheet 41) be says that
Valentinois has come, and '^with bis innumerable turpitudes has ravaged and
reduced to famine half our land/* On the 2nd of June orders are given to send
all women and children away from Cascina, on account of the passage of the army*
An undated letter {at sheet 57 of the same file) orders that all those of ValcDtiiiois'
men who had been captured should be set at liberty, with the exception of Dionigi
Naldi* One of the l6th July (sheet 77 retro) is addressed to Luigi Bella Stufe,

ANOTHER FRENCH ARMY ENTERS ITALY. 287

these affairs with the utmost zeal, and finally, at heaven's pleasure,
the army left Tuscany and passed into the States of the Church*
Only then was the Pope informed of the secret treaty concluded at
Granada between the kings of Spain and France, and, with his
accustomed cyiiicism, he promised investiture to both sovereigns.

On the arrival of the French at the Neapolitan frontier^ the
unhappy Frederic gathered together his scanty forces, having
already placed his sole hope in the help of Spain, whose army
was commanded by the valiant Gonsalvo of Cordova, But at
this moment the latter announced that he must give up his
-estates in the Neapolitan kingdom, since his duties as Frederic's
vassal were no longer compatible wTth tho5^e of a Spanish
-captain. Thus the miserable monarch was left utterly forsaken,
and shortly the whole of his kingdom was occupied by foreigners.
Capua only held out against the French, but in July it was taken
by assault, cruelly sacked, and cost the lives of seven thousand
persons. Guicciardini asserts that not even cloistered virgins were
respected by the soldiery, that many women in their despair cast
themselves into the Vol turn o, and others took refuge in a tower.
According to the same writer, Valentinois, who had followed the
army with his guards, but without a command, and had plunged
4uring the sack into every excess, went to inspect these women in
order to choose for himself forty of the loveliest among them.

On the 19th of August the French entered Naples, and shortly
after Frederic surrendered entirely to the king, who gave him the
Duchy of Anjou in France, with a revenue of 30,000 ducats. There

who is directed to pacify the factions in Scarpcria, and keep an eye upon Vitel-
lo7zo*s mcnt who have appeared in that neighbourhood.

Many olhers are to Ije found in the following file^ marked No. 97* In a
letter of yih July (same file, 97) Piero Vespucci is told : We command thee m^ to
give a safe conduct to OHverolto di Fermo, If it be already gi\en» withdraw it,
and give orders ** that he should be seixed, stripped of everything, treated as an
enemy" (file 97 a«c, 73). On ihe 8th of July to the same : We are content with
the orders given against Oliverotto. Forty of Don Michele^s horse are expected
in Pisa. If they come, ** do thy be^t to plunder them and treat them as enemies*"
Do not, however, seek to pick quarrels, for we do not want a new war, unless
they provoke us to it, as if, for instance, they were to send troops to Pisa (folio 74).
On the 13th to the commissaries of Leghorn and Rosignano : '* The Lord of Piom-
bino advises tis that a Turkish fleet of sixty sail has appeared near Pianosa,
seemingly bound for Genoa* Should they disembark in search of victuals, allow
them to do so, telling them that we are good friends of their Lord. But if they
attempt to march inland, you must try to stop them, and gain time by waiting
for instmctions " (at sheet 77). And thus many more of the same kind.

a88 MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

he died on the 9th September, 1 504 ; his sons, one after the other,
followed him to the grave, and with them was extinguished the
NeapoHtan House of Aragon. Gonsalvo, in the meantime, had
seized, without meeting any resistance, the portion of the kingdom
belonging to Spain. The treaty of Granada, however, had been
drawn up — not perhaps altogether by chance — in a manner
which allowed of different interpretations of the due division.
Soon indeed it was plain, that one or the other of the two
potentates must remain master of the whole kingdom, and the
final decision be made by arms. Nevertheless a temporary agree-
ment was patched up between the two armies, who jointly governed
the disputed provinces.

On the 3rd of September the troops of Duke Caesar marched
into Piombino ; Appiani fled for his life, and in February the
Pope in person came with his son to examine the plans of the
fortresses which the latter was having built there.' Thus the
Florentines again saw the dreaded enemy at their gates, while at
the same time the Lucchese and Pisans were becoming more
daring, and France once more slackening in her friendship,
although the Republic, after having already given her 30,000
ducats for the Swiss, was now negotiating to pay her from 120
to 1 50,000 within three or four years, for the sake of the usual
promise of the conquest of Pisa.^

And while these things were keeping the Republic in ever
increasing difficulties, and making the Ten more and more
unpopular, urgent demands for aid arrived from Pistoia, for that
city was again a prey to the fury of the two factions, and no
manner of government was possible there. Machiavelli, who in
July had already gone there for the second time, was again sent
twice in the month of October, to take instructions, and to
consult, on his return, with the Ten and the Signoria,3 as to what
was necessary to be done.

According to instructions received, he wrote that the sole
remedy to be thought of at present was to reform the govern-

» Buonaccorsi, *' Diario," p. 53.

' See in Desjardins (** N^ociations," &c., vol. ii. pp. 43-69), the various instruc-
tions sent to the ambassadors in P>ance.

3 Machiavelli, "Opere " (P. M.), vol. iii. pp. 330, 332. In the August of that
year he had also been sent to Sienna, to Pandolfo Petrucci, to Pistoia, and to
Cascina. See the documents at p. 358 of the same volume. Another document
would seem to show that in May he had been sent to Bologna to confer with
Giovanni Bentivoglio, but there is no proof that he really went there.

THE WAR WITH PISA,

»

b

ment and administration of the city^ by immediately recalling the
PanciatJchi, and then afterwards take measures about tJie territory,
where still greater evils were rife.* During these months^ besides
all these letters, orders, and inst ruction s^ Machiavelli also indited,
as secretary, an official report of the events at Pistoia, to give the
magistrates a clearer idea of the whole.' Many such reports or
narratives of what happened in the territories of the Republic were
compiled in the chanceries of the Ten and the Signoria, and this
by Machiavelli was likewise a strictly official work of no particular
interest.

Hardly had the Pistoian disturbances been put down, than
news came in May, 1502, that Vitellozzo and the Orsini were
advancing on the Val di Chiana, followed at a short distance by
the Duke of Valentmois. And the Emperor Maximilian, desiring
to come to Italy to be crowned, asked of the Florentines — under
the usual pretext of making war on the Turks — the sum of ioo^ockj
ducatSf of which 6o^ocm3 were to be paid down on the naiL This
money Florence refused to pay, but she found herself compelled
to promise France the sum of 1 20,000 ducats payable within three
years, for a treaty of alliance concluded on the 12th April, 1502,
by which the king was bound to protect the Republic, and supply
it on demand with 400 Iances.3 All these things, while insufficient
to frighten away Valentinois, who was marching slowly forward^
had utterly exhausted the treasury of the Republic, which knew
not what fresh tax to invent, after levying even the Dtcima scaiata
or graduated tithe, a species of progressive tax.* On this account
the war with Pisa was almost suspended, and restricted to raids
on Pisan territory. The Florentines, extremely dissatisfied with
the Ten, declined to re-elect tliera, and placed the conduct of the
war in the hands of a Commission chosen by the Signorta, where-
upon all things went from bad to worse. ^ The Pisans, in fact,,
assumed the offensive, advanced on Vico Pisano, took possession of

* See in the **Opere" (voL vL p. 166) a letter of ihe Signoria, daled 26th
October^ 1501, almost entirely in Machiavetli^s hand. Guiccmrdini speaks of
these disorders on Pii,toian territory in his ** Storia Fiorcnlina," pp. 269-70.

^ "Opere"(R M,), p, 352.
* ^ Buonaccorsi, " Diario/* pp. 49-53 ; Guicciardini, " Sloria Fioreniioa,** chap*
xxiit.

-» Guicciardini, '* Storia Fiorentinaj" chap, xxi. This tax was very heavy,
although part of it wa-s placed to the credit of the contributor and considered as »
loon, as Caneiitriiii tellss us in his work, ** La Scienza e TArte di Stato,*' Florence^
, Ijc Monnier, 1862. ^ Ibid., chap, xxiii*

VOL, 1. 20

290 MACHIAVELWS LIFE AND TIMES.

it, and continued the negotiations begun in the preceding December
with the Pope and Valentinois, for the formation of an indepen-
dent State stretching to the coast, including the inland territory
occupied by the Florentines, with whom neither peace nor truce
was ever to be made. Valentinois was to have the title of Duke
of Pisa, and the Duchy was to be hereditary ; the time-honoured
magistrature of the Anziani (elders) was to be preserved, and one
of the Borgia was to be named Archbishop of Pisa." These
designs were never carried out, but they sufficed to cause anxiety
to the Florentines, against whom the Borgia tried to stir up
enemies on every side, for the purpose, as they now pretended, of
uniting all Italy in a league against foreigners in general and the
French in particular.

Meanwhile Vitellozzo was already close upon Arezzo with the
manifest purpose of exciting a rebellion there, and Valentinois
was at a short distance, feigning to take no part in the proceed-
ings of one of his own captains.^ The Republic, having at this
moment no troops at its command, hurriedly despatched as war
commissary, Gugliemo de Pazzi, father of the Bishop of Arezzo,
who was already on the spot But the commissary had barely
arrived when the people broke into rebellion (4th June), and both
father and son had to take refuge with the captain in the fortress.
Vitellozzo then entered the town with 120 men-at-arms and a
good number of foot soldiers, soon followed by Giovan Paolo
Baglioni, another of the Duke's captains, with fifty men-at-arms
and five hundred infantry. To face these dangers, France was
requested to send the promised contingent of four hundred lances,
and also Piero Soderini was sent to Milan to ensure their
departure. The troops encamped before Pisa received orders to
advance by the Val di Chiana, where Antonio Giacomini Tebal-
ducci, was sent as commissary, and likewise to fill the post of
captain. This man had dedicated himself to military studies for
some time, and already had given proofs of the immense superiority
of patriot captains over mercenaries. 3 Machiavelli, who was in

' Desjardins, ** Ncgociations," &c., vt>l. ii. pp. 69-70.

' The Venetian ambassador wrote from Rome on the 7th June, I $02, that the
Arezzo business was ** an old scheme of the Duke," and on the 20th June he
added, that the Pope, **ever intent on his own private passions," in spite of the
vigorous French protest regarding the affair of Arezzo, spoke of nothing but this
and the other enterprises of his Duke. See the *' Dispacci " of A. Giustinian.

3 Nardi, " Vita di Antonio Giacomini." Napier, in his ** Florentine History"
(vol. iv. p. 105), tells us on the authority of Jacopo Pitti (book i. p. 77), that
Giaromini's appointment caused the re-election of the Ten.

SODERINI WITH VALENTINOIS,

291

constant correspondence with him^and followed his career step by
step, now renewed his observations and matured his ideas on the
subject of a national militia.

Meanwhile events were hurrying on, for the citadel of Arezzo,
after holding out for a fortnight^ had to surrender without being
able to receive succour from the troops on the march from the
camp before Pisa. The latter therefore received orders to retire
on Montevarchi, while the enemies, with their Arezzo reinforce-
ments, occupied the whole of the Val dt Chiana^ and had been
.already joined by Piero dei Medici and his brother/ The Floren-
tines, as may easily be imagined, awaited most anxiously the French
contingent which was to rescue them from their imminent danger,
and while in this suspense, a message came from V^alentinois
demanding that some one should be sent to confer with him.
Francesco Soderini, Bishop of Volterra, was chosen for this mis-
sion, and was accompanied by Niccolo Machiavelli, The Duke
was at that time at Urbino, which he had seized by treachery, and
the unhappy Giiidobaldo di Montefeltro had barely saved his life
by hurried flight to the mountains, although he had always con-
sidered himself the friend of the Borgia, and assisted them with
the vt^ry troops^ whom they had roused against him to strip him
roi his State.

Machiavelli only remained a few days with Soderini^ having
then to return to Florence to give vwa voce details to the Signory.
Therefore only the two first despatches of this legation are written
by him, and both bear the signature of Bishop S<:iderini, In
the second dated from Urbino the 26th of June, ante iuccm^ we
find a description of Borgia, clearly showing how profound an
impression he had already produced upon the mind of the
Florentine secretary. They gained audience on the evening of the
24th at two o'clock of the night, =* in the palace inhabited by the
Duke and a few of his men, who kept the doors well locked and
guarded. Borgia told the envoys that he wished to be on a clear
footing with the Florentines, their firm friend or declared enemy.
Should they decline his friendship, he would be justified, before
both God and man, in seeking by every means to ensure the
safety of his own dominions which bordered upon theirs along
^so extended a frontier, ^' I desire to have explicit surety since too

* Buonaccorsi, '*Diario." p» 54 and fol.

^ Lcy two hours after sun^ec, according to the old style.

3^9

MACHIAVELLFS LIFE AND TIMES,

well I know that your city is not well minded towards me, but
would abandon me like ati assassin, and has already sought to plunge
me in heavy embroilments with the Pope and King of France.
This government of yours does not please me, and you must
change it^ otherwise if you refuse me for a friend, you shall know
me for an enemy,** The envoys replied that Florence had the
government which she desired, and that none throughout Italy
could boast of keeping better faith. That if the Duke's inten-
tions were really friendly he could easily prove it by compelling
Vitellozzo, who was in fact his subordinate, to withdraw at once.
Upon this the Duke asserted that Vitellozzo and the others were
acting on their own account, although he was by no means ill-
pleased that the Florentines should, without any fault of his^
receive a severe and merited lesson. Nor was it possible to get
anything else out of him, whereupon the ambassadors hurried to
WTite their despatches, feeling that it was most necessary to
acquaint the government with the Duke's motives in sending for
them, the more so " as these people*s mode of action is to sneak
into others* houses before they are aware of it, as was the case of
the last Lord of this place, whose death was heard of before his
illness." '

The Duke had also asserted that he was sure of France, and
caused the same to be repeated to them by the Orsini^ who not
only gave it to be understood that Vitellozxo's expedition had been
undertaken by agreement with that country, but added that all
was in readiness for a speedy invasion of Tuscany with twenty or
twenty- five thousand men, which force however the orators
reckoned at sixteen thousand only. ** This Duke/* said the letter
in conclusion, *' is so enterprising that nothing is too great to seem
small to him, and for the sake of glory and the extension of his
dominions, he deprives himself of rest, yielding to no fatigue, no
danger. He arrives at this place before one hears that he has left
the other, he gains the goodwill of his soldiers, he has got hold
of the best men in Italy and has constant good luck ; all which
things make him victorious and formidable." But the fact
was, that he knew that the French were coming to the aid
of the Florentines, and therefore wished to bind the latter at
any price. Accordingly, at three o'clock of the night of the
25th, after the orators had already spoken with Orsini, he sent for

Tills was Guidolmldo di MonlefeUro, Duke of Urbino.

ARRIVAL OF THE FRENCH CONTINGENT.

293

them ;

again to signify that he wisht-d an instant reply from the
Signoria, nor would he grant them a longer delay than of four
days. So the letter^' finished at dawn^ was instantly sent off by a
special courier, followed closely by Alachiavelli himself, who had
nothing more to do at Urbino. He went away filled with a
strange intellectual admiration of this enemy of his country,
which admiration was probably increased by that already inspired
by Borgia in Bishop Soderini.^ The latter remained with the
Duke, who daily increased both his demands and his threats.
The Florentines, however, paid slight attention to these, for they
knew that the French contingent was already on the road. For
the same reason, when Giacomini^ — who on this occasion had
shown marvellous courage and activity — now wrote tt) say that
if they sent him three thousand foot soldiers and a thousand
irregulars he would be able to attack the enemy, they replied in
the first week in July, that he need only stand on the defence, for
that the artillery and four thousand Swiss sent by France were
already on their way. They added that it would be necessary to
pay these troops at once, and it would therefore be imprudent to
involve the Republic in fresh expenses, especially as Valentinois
himself seemed already folding his wings.^ And they wrote to
the same effect at later dates.*

On the 24th of July the King wrote that horse and foot would
speedily arrive^ together ^\ith a sufficient supply of artillery
under the command of La Tremoille. The Florentines therefore
must have pay and provisions ready for them.s And very soon
^ the Captain Imbault appeared with a small troop before Arezzo,
and speedily brought Vitellozzo to terms. The latter was to
surrender all the places he had taken excepting the city he was
then occupying^ and where he was to be allowed to remain with
Piero dei Medici until the return of Cardinal Orsini^ who had
gone to treat with the King in person. But even this concession

* The greater pan of this letter, with a few by Sodcrini, was published by us at
the end of vuL i, of the ** Dispacci " of A. Giustinian. Passerini has published
all the documents of the legation, which 1 as we have already said, only include
iwc* by MachiaveUi* '* Opere " (P, M.), vol. iv,

* MachiavcUi himself says this, as we shall shortly see.

5 Letters of the 1st and 12th July, in the Florence Archives, closs^x. dist, 3,
No. tot, sheets 2 and 24* Sec Appendix, document v,

-* Letters of the 2nd, 4th, and 15th July^ in the ** Scriiti Inediti" published by
Cancstrmir pp. 3, 5, and 8^

5 Desjardins, *' Ncgocialions,*' &.C., voL ii. p. 70.

K

V

294 MACHIAVELWS LIFE AND TIMES,

— which the Florentines rightly considered unseemly,' — was after^
wards withdrawn, because the Pope and the Duke — ^throwing the
blame of everything on Vitellozzo and the Orsini whom they
mortally hated — ^abandoned them altogether ; neither in fact did
they care much about the Medici, precisely for the reason that
these were friends and relatives of the Orsini." On the contrary
they pledged themselves to assist France in the Neapolitan expedi-
tion.3 And the Florentines having previously settled that Captaia
Imbault, who had not satisfied them, should be superseded by De
Langres,^ soon recovered all their territory, a circumstance which
was made known in an epistle of the 28th of August, together
with orders for public festivals to be held in commemoration of
the event.5

Towards the middle of August Machiavelli was sent to the
French camp, to accompany De Langres and collect information
prejudicial to Imbault, but he was not long absent from his post,
Piero Soderini and Luca degli Albizzi, both men of great influence^
had been sent to Arezzo for the purpose of restoring order as
soon as the rebellion should be quelled, and preventing De Langres
from going away too soon, since the Florentine forces were all
engaged in keeping back the Pisans, who were advancing in the
opposite quarter.^ Meanwhile he wrote from his Chancery, pray-
ing Soderini to hasten at all events to send to Florence, before the
departure of the French, all such Aretini, ** as may seem to you
likely ; cither by their brains, courage, pugnacity, or wealth, to
draw other men after them, and it were better rather to send
twenty too many than one too few, without troubling yourself as

' Vide letter of the 30th July in Canestrini's ** Scritii Inediti/' p. 19.

' The Venetian ambassador in Rome plainly stated in a letter of July, 1 502,
that the Pope had been compelled by orders from France, to insist on the with-
drawal of Vitellozzo and the Orsini from Arezzo ; but that he had no real desire
to reinstate the Medici in Florence, for they were friends of the Orsini whom he
wished to root out. See the ** Dispacci " of A. Giustinian, especially those dated
1st and 7th July. Then Buonaccorsi at page 54 of his '*Diario," tells us that
Valentinois would have willingly joined the Florentines in injuring the Orsini and
Vitelli, but did not dare to speak his mind for fear of meeting with a refusal.

3 Buonaccorsi, " Diario," p. 62.

^ Buonaccorsi, "Diario," p. 63 ; Canestrini, '*Scritti Inediti," p. 21. Worthy
too of note are the letters of 4th August and following in the Florence Archivesr
class X. dist. 3, No. 100, at sheets 68 and fol.

- Plorence Archives, class x. dist. 3, No. loi, at sheet 104.

^ Letters of the 3rd, 4th, and 6th September, I502,jn the Florence Archives^
cl. X. dist. 3, No. 100, folio 107, 109, and in.

METHOD OF DEALING WITH REBELS,

295

to their nuaiber, or about leaving the town empty.'* * He quitted
his post again on the nth and 17th September to make two
journeys to Arezzo, in order to look into the state of ihings^ and
provide for the departure of the French, who had now decided
on going away.^'

Fortunately everything turned out fairly well, and Machtavelli,
having long begun to think seriously on political matters, not
from the ofHcial point of view, but from that of a student and
man of science, in whose mind particular facts were marshalled
according to general principles and rules, composed, after his
Arezzo experiences, a short treatise entitled r *' Del modo di
trattare i popoh della Val di Chiana ribellati." ^

The author is supposed to pronounce this discourse before the
magistrates of the Republic, but it is not one of those compiled
in the usual routine of office work : on the contrary, it was a
first attempt to soar above his daily work to the highest
scientific level. And in this treatise we can already perceive the
germs of all the signal merits and defects, which we shall see
displayed later in the secretary's principal writings, That which
first arrests our attention is the singular manner in which we
find, grafted the one upon the other in the author's mind, experi-
ence of actual facts, judgments formed of the actions of men
personally known to him — among whom Caesar Borgia is not
the last— together with an extraordinary admiration for Roman
antiquity, which seems to have been the only link of con-
nection between the results of his daily observations and the
general principles of his, as yet» uncertain science. By comparing,
he says, that which happens under our own eyes with that w^hich
In similar circumstances occurred in Rorae^ we may succeed in
understanding what we should do, since, in point of fact, men are
always the same, and have the same passions ; thus when circum-
stances are identical, the same causes lead to the same effects, and
therefore the same facts ought to suggest the same rules of con-
duct. Certainly in those days it was a daringly original idea
I to have recourse to antiquity and history^ in order — ^by comparison

* LeUer of the Sth of September, written fwmine Priorum^ loc. at.., at sheet
116. A sitnilar letter in the name of the Ten is in the ** Scritti Inedili,*' pp. 28
and 29.

• See in Machiavelli. '* Opere/' vol vi. pp. 182-84, several letters referring to
these journeys.

3 **Opere,'* vol ii. p. 385.

fi^

with recent experiences — to discover the principles regulating
the movements of human actions, and bound to regulate those of
governments. But if histor}' teaches us the successive order of
human affairs, it also shows the continual mutations of man-
kind and society, and the difficulty of discovering absolute and
unchangeable rules. In truth, on close examination, although
history is the original model to which Machiavelli constantly
refers, we shall frequently find that it only serves to give
greater weight to, or furnish the demonstration of those maxims
which were, in fact, the fruits of his own experience. And
this is the pnmary source of his chief merits and defects. Having
as yet no accurate vision of the process^ by which an ever
different present results from the past ; being as yet too uncertain
of his method to deduce with scientific precision general prin-
ciples from concrete facts, he placed antiquity between the two,
and antiquity proved to be an artificial link, whenever it was only
called upon to demonstrate foregone conclusions. Nevertheless
this first attempt shows us plainly, that Machiavelli used it-^-one
may say as a ladder — in order to climb to a higher world far above
the wearying routine of daily labour amidst a policy of petty
subterfuge^ Urged on by genius, great powers of analysis, and
a restless fancy ^ he attempted to create a new science, not with-
out occasionally falling into exaggerations, which never entirely
disappeared from his works, and which later brought upon him
the blame of Guicciardini, who accused him of over-preference
*^for extraordinary deeds and ways."

This is the manner in which his discourse opens: ** Lucius
Furius Camillos entered the Senate, after having conquered the
rebellious peoples of Latium, and said — * I have done all that war
can do ; now it is your concern, O Conscript Fathers, to assure
your future safety as regards the rebels/ And the Senate gene-
rously pardoned the rebels, excepting only the cities of Veliterno
and Anzio. The first was demolished, and its inhabitants sent to
Home ; the second, after its ships had been destroyed, and it had
been forbidden to build others, was colonized by new and loyal
inhabitants. This was because the Romans knew that half
measures were to be avoided, and that peoples must either be
conquered by kindness or reduced to impotence.*' ^* I have
heard that history is the teacher of our actions, and especially of
our rulers ; * the world has always been inhabited by men with
* That is — ^S talesmen*

METHOD OF DEALING WITH REBELS.

297

the same passions as our own, and there have always be^n mlers and
ruled, and good subjects and bad subjects^ and those who rebel and
are punished/^ "One can therefore approve your general course
of conduct towards the inhabitants of the Val di Chiana ; but not
your particular conduct towards the Aretini, who have always been
rebellious, and whom you have neither known how to win by
kindness nor utterly subdue, after the manner of the Romans. In
fact, you have not benefited the Aretini^ but on the contrary' have
harassed them by summoning them to Florence, stripping them of
honours^ selling their possessions ; neither are you in safety from
them, for you have left their walls standing, and allowed five-
sixths of the inhabitants to remain in the city, without sending
others to keep them in subjection. And thus Arezzo will ever be
ready to break into fresh rebellion, which is a thing of no slight
importance, with Caesar Borgia at hand, seeking to form a strong
state by getting Tuscany Itself into his power. And the Borgia
neither use half measures nor halt half way in their tmdcrtakings.
Cardinal Soderini, who knows them well, has often told me that,
among other qualities of greatness possessed by the Pope and the
Pope^s son, they likewise have that of knowing how to seize and
profit by opportunities, the which is well confirmed by our
experience of what they have already done.*' At this point
the unfinished discourse suddenly breaks oflF.

Machiavelli who had shown so much zeal in prosecuting the
business of the capture and condemnation of VitelU, and, on the
8th of September, had written to the Florentine commissaries that
in order to clear Arezzo of dangerous men, they should rather
send twenty too many than one too few, without caring if the*
city were even depopulated, had no need to demonstrate that
he disapproved of half measures in politics, trusted solely to'
prompt and resolute conduct, and was by no means satisfied with
the perpetual petty tergiversation of his fellow citizens. But
neither must we believe that in these theoretical discourses he
intended positively to condemn the conduct of the magistrates.
They naturally had to consider the passions and character of the
men over whom they ruled ; his object in writing was to inquire
into what should be the true policy of a people such as he
imagined after meditating on the history of Rome.

Certainly the affairs of the Republic at this juncture were
jcarried on with a weakness and timidity making all men feel
the necessity of some active reform. In the April of this year

298 MACHIAVELU'S LIFE AND TIMES.

a new law had been passed for the abolishment of the Podestil and
the Captain of the people, ancient offices which had originally
been political and judicial posts ; but having long lost the
former of their attributes, now fulfilled the second very indif-
ferently notwithstanding its great importance. Therefore, accord-
ing to one of Savonarola^s old suggestions, a ruota was instituted
of five doctors of the law, each of whom presided in turn for six
months, and filled for that period the place of the Podest^. The
Ruota had to sit in judgment on civil and criminal suits, and by
a provision of the isth of April, 1502, was instituted for three
years only, a term that was afterwards extended.' By another
of the 2 1 St of April, the Court of Commerce was remodelled,
and compelled to restrict its operations to commercial affairs
only.' But similar alterations, as may easily be understood,
brought no improvement to the general course of affairs under
a government, the primary cause of whose weakness lay in
changing the Gonfaloniere and the Signoria every two months.^
Thus no traditions of office were formed ; no State secrets were
possible ; all was carried on in public, and only the head chancellor
or secretary, Marcello Virgilio, managed, in virtue of his own zeal
and influence, to maintain a certain degree of uniformity in the
conduct of affairs.** All measures were slow and uncertain ;
money was squandered ; the citizens, weighed down by excessive
taxation, were full of discontent, and had no one to appeal to,
since the magistrates disappeared from the stage almost as soon as
they had taken office. At last necessary grants of money ceased to
be voted, the soldiery received no pay, and influential citizens
refused to accept embassies or other high offices, which were
consequently bestowed on obscure and insignificant men, who —
as Guicciardini phrased it — *' had more tongue than presence,"
and were merely chosen because they pushed themselves for-
ward.s

For these reasons it was proposed to make some radical change
in the form of government. The first idea was to create a Senate

* ** Consigli Maggiori, Provvisioni," reg. 194, at sheet I. Guicciardini, ** Storia
Fiorentina," pp. 250-51 ; Giovanni Cambi, *' Delizie dcgli Eruditi Toscani," vol.
xxi. p. 172. ^ Ibid., reg. 194, at sheet ii.

3 Guicciardini, *' Storia Fiorentina," chap. xxv.

^ Nardi, ** Storia di Firenze," vol. i. p. 276. He makes no mention of
Machiavelli.

5 Guicciardini, '* Storia Fiorentina," chap, xxiv., at pp. 257-58, and chap»
xxv. p. 274.

THE GONFALONIERE ELECTED FOR LIFE. 299

for lif€> like ihe Pregadi of V^enice, but it was feared that this
might throw the State into the hands of a few individuals ; then
it was proposed instead to create a Gonfalontere for life like the
Doge,^ and on the 26th of Augusti 1502^ that measure was
carried.* The legal position of the new Gonfaloniere differed
little from what it had formerly been ; he was at the head of the
Signoria and nothing more. But at all its sittings, he had the
right of initiative in proposing laws ; also that of taking part in
and voting with the judges in criminal trials, which was in itself
an increase of power. Then the fact of being elected for hfe^
amoDg political magistrates with so brief a tenure of authority^
greatly increased both his influence and his strength. It was
necessar}' that he should be at least fifty years of age^ and should
hold no other office ; his brothers^ sonsp and nephews were
excluded from the Signoria, and both himself and his sons were
forbidden to trade. His salary was 1,200 florins a year. The
number of eligible candidates was large, even the citizens belong-
ing to the lesser trades being admissible. The election was to be
made by the Great Council, for, on that day, all who had a right
to sit there were to have the power to vote. Every counsellor
was called upon to give the name of the citizen whom he washed
to elect, and all those obtaining half the votes //«^ one, were
again balloted thrice. At the third time whoever obtained
the majority, among those having more than half the whole
number of votes, was the successful candidate. The Signory^ the
Colleges, the Ten^ the Captains of the Guelph party, and the
Right in conjunction could deprive him of office by a majority of
three-fourths, in the event of his violating the law. 3 This pro-

* Guicdardini, ** Sioria llorentJDa,'' chap, xxv- p, 27S.

* This provision (*^Consigli Maggiori, Frovvisioiu/' rcg, 194, at sheet 150) has
been published by L, Ranchi, Director of the Sicnnesc Archives^ tn a **Raccoila
di scritlure vane,*' made for the Riccomanni-Fiiieschi marriage. Turin, VerceU
linoj 1S65. See also the documents published by Razzi in his '* Vita di Piero
Soderini/* Padua, 1737.

3 Guicdardini (** Storia Fiorentina,'* pp. 2S0-82) gives a very minute and exact
report of the Prov\4sioDi, Careful comparison with the original documents enables
us to see the marvellous accuracy of Guicciardini on this subject, as indeed on all
others, in his ** Storia Fiorentina,'* Frequently be gives txrifaiim the laws and
documents which he has occasion to mention. This proves that the illustrious
historian Ranke ^as mistaken in his over severe judgment respecting the studies,
acquirements, and historic fidelity of Guicciardini. Ilowever it is true thai when
the illu^strious German expressed that opinion in his **Zur Kritik neucrcr
Geschichtschreiber ■' (Bedin^ i824)j he could not have read Guicciardini*$ **Op€re
Incdite,'* which, even in Italy, exhibited him in an entirely new light.

300

MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES,

vision, twice discussed by the Eighty and twice by the Great
Council, was finally carried — after a hard struggle — ^by sixty-
€ight votes against thirty-one in the Council of Eighty, and by
«ight hundred and eighteen against three hundred and seventy-
two in the Great Council.

On the the 20th of September, Piero Soderini, the Bishop's
brother, was elected Gonfaloniere by a large majority. He had
already officiated as Gonfaloniere eighteen months before, had
filled many other posts, and although of ancient and wealthy
family, was a good friend of the people and the Liberal Govern-
ment. Likewise he was a facile speaker, a good citizen, and had
none of the large energies or lofty gifts exciting too much
hatred or too much affection, and this was by no means the least
cause of his success.' On the 23rd of the same month Machia-
velli despatched to him at Arezzo the official announcement of
his election, expressing at the same time the hope that he
might succeed in conferring on the Republic that prosperity for
the sake of which the new office had been created.* This election
was a very notable event, not only in the history of Florence, but
also in the life of Machiavelli ; for he was an old acquaintance of
the Soderini family, and speedily gained the full confidence of the
new Gonfaloniere, who entrusted him, as we shall see, with very
important State affairs.

' Guicciardini, **StoriaFiorcntina," p. 200; Buonaccorsi, ** Diario," p. 64.
= Florence Archives, class x. dist. 3, No. loi, at sheet 134. The letter
was not written by Machiavelli, only corrected by him.

CHAPTER V.

I Xiegation Ito the Duke of Valendnois in Romagna — The doings of the Pope in
Rome at the same period— Machiavelli composes his *' Descrizione " of events
in Romagna.

(I 502-1 503.)

NCE more it is the turn of the Borgia to claim
the attention of all Italy. Liicrezia had now^
to her own advantage, disappeared from the
Roman stage^ after having been the chief per-
sonage of the mo^t scandalous and nefarious
tales. But she seemed heedless of reproach,
since she was often to be seen with her father
and brother merrily taking part in masquerades and balls which
were nothing better than orgies too indecent for description/
, At last, in the January of 1502, she set out for Ferrara with
an immense suite, and travelling with an excessive pomp and
luxury of which contemporary chroniclers . give minute and
[tedious accounts repeated ad nauseam. In Ferrara she became
the bride of Duke Alfonso d'Este, and splendid festivities
were held there during many days,' But from that time her

* Burchnrdi and Matarazro give pardculars of ihcm.

' Mardnoness Isalxflla Gon^nga, a lady whose elevated mode of thought is stnk-
ingly contrasted with the prevailing tone of the times, went to Ferrara to join in
these festivities, and wrote to her husband that ihe found them very wearisome,
and that it seeme<l a thousattd years before she could return to Mantova, " not
only for the sake of coming back to your lordship and my little son, but also to
get away from this place where one has no pleasure in life.** (Letter of the 5th
Februar}', 1502.) " And were they veritable pleasures," she wrote, ** they could
not satisfy me without the presence of your lordship and our hitle boy." Isabellx
Gonzaga was not deceived by the show of ofRcial gaiety, for she remarked : '^* to
say the truth this wedding is a very cold one," {Letter of the Jrd of February.)
VuU the collection of her very interesting letters published by Signor Carlo
ICO in the ** Archivio Storico," Appendix xi.

302 MACHIAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES.

life entered into a quieter and more decorous phase, for she
now had to deal %vith a husband capable of sending her out
of the world with little hesitation after the Borgia's favourite
style. For this reason, although some of her actions were in
accordance with her past career, they have always been enveloped
in the deepest mystery.' She surrounded herself with litter aii
who flattered her, even applied herself to works of piety and
charity, thus gaining the improved reputation that she ever
after enjoyed, and almost complete exculpation at the hands of
many writers.

But in Rome with the Pope, and in Romagna with the Duke of
Valentinois, the scene only shifted from one tragedy to another,
from bloodshed to more bloodshed. Insulting pamphlets, atrocious
epigrams, were continually appearing in the Eternal City ; but the
Pope was too full of other matters to pay any attention to them.
From time to time, some cardinal, after accumulating great riches,
would fall ill and die suddenly, or be unexpectedly impeached and
sentenced to confinement in the castle of St. Angelo, from which
he never issued alive. All his possessions — plate, money, even
furniture and tapestry — speedily found their way to the Vatican.
His vacant benefices were conferred upon other prelates, often
destined to come to the same end as soon as they were rich enough.
" Our Lord/' wrote the Venetian ambassador, ** generally fattens
them up, before feasting on them." And, in the July of that
year, this was the fate of the Datario, Battista Ferrari, cardinal of
Modena, who had been his most faithful instrument in squeezing
money from everybody and everything. Having amassed great
riches he was suddenly seized with a mortal sickness ; the Pope
gave him spiritual assistance at the last hour, and then, as usual,
stripped his palace and took all his property. The greater part
of his benefices were conferred upon Scbastiano Pinzon who had
been his private secretary, and, as it was generally rumoured, had
poisoned his master by the Holy Father's own command. = "

The city was illuminated during these days ; the Governor of
Rome and the Pope's guards, followed by a great crowd, went
about the streets shouting — The Dukc^ the Duke.^ Caesar Borgia

* (Ircgorovius, *' Lucrezia Borgia."

^ Anrl it is publicly said that he had them /;/ premium sanpihiis, *' since by many
evidc'iu -^igns all hold that the cardinal died ex vcnenOy and that this Sebastian was
the murderer. . . . The ix)pe has received him inter familiares,^^ Antonio
Giuslinian, *' Dispacci " : Despatch of the 20th July, 1502.

3 Despatch of the 24th of July, 1502.

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN ROMAGNA, 303

^

V

¥

liad entered Camerino and captured its Lord, Giulio Cesare da
Varano, and his sons. The Pope therefore was so excited with joy,
as to be unable to keep it concealed. Having called a Consistory
to announce a victory of the Hungarians over the Turks, he
spoke only of Canierinoand the Duke. Reminded by the cardinal
of Santa Prasscde of the object of the meeting, he at once ordered
the letter to be fetched ; but then, pursuing his other subject,
forgot to have it read.^ While speaking with the Venetian
and Spanish ambassadors^ he walked about the room too restless
to sit still ; had the Duke^s letter read, which after relating
all that occurred concluded as follows : ^* May this do good to your
Holiness ; '' and then exalted the Duke^s prudence and magnani-
mity, ** praising him ah mnui paries "^ He predicted his son^s
future conquests, and in his mind's eye already beheld him master
of all central Italy. He was however uncertain of what might be
the attitude of Venice with regard to changes so rapid. Therefore
calling to him the Venetian ambassador, he immediately began to
make great protestations of friendship, in order to see how he
would reply. But Antonio Giustinian was a wary politician, and
wrote to his Doge : " In answer to what I have just related,
Principe Serenissimo, amhulavi super j^encraiissimis while the
Pope went super ^enerah'busy ^

Meanwhile Valcntinois had assumed the titles of Caesar Borgia
of France, by the grace of God, Duke of Roraagna, Valencia and
Urbino, Prince of Andria, Lord of Piombino, Gonfalonier and
Captain- General of the Church, and he advanced upon Bologna
without delay. But at this inoment France put her zr/o upon any
farther proceedings, giving it to be understood that she could not
permit the Borgia to extend their conquests in Italy : that they
must renounce all idea of Bologna and Tuscany.-* At the same

' Despatch of Ihc 29th July. =» Despatch of the 27lh July.

5 Despatch of the 22rid July^ 1502,

* The good Isabella Gonzaga wrole to her husband on this subject : II is said
that the king of France means lO make you march against the Duke, but it seems
to me thai we must be very cautious, "for now one knows not whom to trust,^'
and soon we might see the Ring once more in agreement with the Duke* (Letter uf
the 23rd July, 1502.) She was not mistaken in this. But it was no sympathy
for Valentinois that made her express this opinion. For at the lime when the
people of Facnia were valiantly defending their hircl, she had written to her bus-
band : ** I am pleased that the Faentini are so faithful and constant in the tiefenceof
Iheir lord^ for they restore the honour of the Italians. Thus may God grant them
grace to persevere, not to wish ill to the Duke of Valentinois^ but because neither
Ihat lord, nor his faithful people, deserve so hcav7 a ruin," (letter of the ioth

$o4

MACHIAVELLFS LIFE AND TIMES.

i

time the Duke*s principal captains, who were nearly all of theni
petty tyrants from central Italy, perceived how he was destroying

one by one all their companions, and understood that before long^
their own turn would come. And, on learning that he had
already resolvt'd to take possession of Penigia and Castello, and
then fall upon the Orsini, they all met together *' in order nut to
be devoured by the dragon one after another/* * and decided to
raise the standard of rebellion against the Duke and 5eize the
present opportunity for attacking him, now that he was deserted
by France. The first result of this agreement was, that on the
8th of October some of the conspirators carried by surprise the
fortress of San Leo in the Duchy of Urbino, the which made
an extraordinary impression, as the signal and forerunner of
fresh events. In fact, on the 9th day of October,* the conspirators
ail assembled at La Magionc near Perugia, for the forraa! arrange-
ment of the terms of the league. There were several of the
Orsini, namely, the cardinal, the Duke of Gravina, Paolo and
Frangiotto, besides Ermt^s, son of Giovanni Bentivoglio, with full
powers as representative of his father, Antonio da Venafio, with
full powers from Pandolfo Petrucci, Messer Gentile and Gio\an
Paolo Baglioni, and Vitelloz2o Vitelli who, being ill, was carried
in on a couch. ^ They pkdgcd themselves to the common defence^
to make no attack without the general consent, and to collect an
army of 700 men-at*arms in blank (in htanco)^^ 100 light horse^
9,000 foot soldiers, and more if necessary ; and all who should fail
to observe these legally stipulated terms, were to be fined 50,000
ducats, and be stigmatized as traitors, Florentine assistance was

April, 1501.) And on the 3rd of July of the sarac year shewroie, that for the anni-
versary of the l>aitle of Fornuovo she had ordered '* ihat mass should be cclc-
bmted for ihe souls of those valiant men of ours^ who lost their lives to save Italy,
according to your excellency's prudent and pious advice." Language such as this
is very rare, and therefore all the more worthy of note in the age of the Borgia and
Lotlovico the Moor.

'This cxi>rcssiDn is to be found in a letter of the nth October, written by
Giovan Paolo UagUoni, one of the conspirators, to Messer Vincenzo Count of
Mootevibiano, the last who ill led tlic office of P'odest^ in Florence, It is included
in the correspondence published by Passerini, ** Opere " (l\M.), vol. iv, p, 94
and fol,

* The dale is extracted from the l>efore -quoted letters. Several |>reparatory
meetings had however been previously held, as we learn from the historians and
from the documents of Machiavelli's own Legation to Borgia in Komagna.

^ Letters of Baglioni quoted above.

* That is to say» they were bound to engage 700 men, but had not already got them
in readiness. As we shall sec, Caesar Borgia mocked this expression of theirs.

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN ROMAGNA. 505

\

soon asked^ but they took to arms at once, and Paolo Vitclli,
having carried the citadel of Urbino by assault on the 15th of
October^ now stirred the whole Duchy to re%Hjlt, so that only a
few of the numerous fortresses remained in Borgia's hands,

Ciesar perfectly understood the gravity of this revolt. But
without losing his presence of mind| he sent against the enemy

e portion of his army stiO remaming faithful to him^ under
the command of one of his captains, Don Michele Coriglia, a
Spaniard of notorious cruelty^' and his strangler, better known
Don Michelotto. This man established his quarters in the
citadel of Pergola, which still held out for the Duke, making
sorties thence into the surrounding territory, and laying it all
waste. We are told tlrat it was then that he murdered Giulio da
Varano, his wife, and tuo of his sons^ who w^ere in prison, while
another of them, after being first tortured at Pesaro, was dragged
half dead into a church, and there butchered by a Spanish priest^
who was afterwards, in his turn, cut to pieces in a popular riot at
Cagli. From E^ergola tbearmy went to Fossombrone, where many
omeUi to escape the ferocity of the soldiery, threw themselves
and their children into the river. =

Meanwhile the rebel army, being now joined by BagUoni and
his troops, had increased to 12,000 men, and three miles from
Fossombrone, gave battle to Borgia^s army, under the joint com-
mand of Don Michelotto and Don Ugo di Moncada, another
Spaniard. The Duke's forces were utterly routed ; Don Ugo was
taken prisoner, Don Michelotto barely escaped, and the exultation
of the rebels was at its height. The fugitive Guidobaldo di
Montefeltro re-entered his dominions, and had a triumphant re-
ception at Urbino ; Giovan Maria da Varaiio, the only survivor of
his unhappy family, returned to Camerino. Thus the laborious
and sanguinary" w^ork of the Borgia seemed all crumbled to dust in
one moment. Yet skirmishes on a large scale still went on ; Don

ichelotto continued to hold out at Pesaro ; the Duke was at

* A note in the edition of MachiavelH's works (voL vi. p. 48$ }i also repealed in
tlie Pjsserini ami Milancsi edition, styles him a'^^enetian^ and qiiotei. a letler from
the otiimissary in Areziza, which we have searched for in vain in the Florence
Archives. All t>lher vsritcrs call him a Spaniard, and uhen he was engaged by
the Florentines a> Captain of the Guard, the decree of the 27th of February, 1507^
runs as follow : ** Dicti Domini, they decitled, &c., that Michele Coriglin, the
Spaniard y should be engaged us Capiain *...** Ch xiii. dist. 2, No. 70 (*• Uelibe-
razioni dei ix d'ordinanza "), at sheet 9/.

' UgoLini, '* Storia dei Conti e Duchi d'Urbino/' vol, iL p. 98 and fol.

VOL, I, tl

J

MACHIAVELU'S LIFE AND TIMES.

Imola with a considerable force that he tried to augment. The
rebels had asked aid from Venice, who remained a passive
spectator ; from Florence^ who mindful of the doings of the Orsini
and Vitelli in Tuscany » and unwilling to go to war witli the
Borgia» first temporised and then rtfused outright The Duke
on the other hand applied to the French, who instantly sent
him a small body of spearmen under the command of Charles
d^Amboise, Lord of Chaumont. This dishonourable action
brought alw>ut an instant change in the aspect of affairs, and struck
terror into Borgia^s enemies, who^ having neglected to take advan-
tage of the favourable moment, now beheld in the banner of
France his salvation and their own ruin.

From the first moment of the open rupture with the Orsini,
the Duke and the Pope had pressed Florence to send ambassadors
to both courts, in the desire to assure themselves of the friend-
ship of a State which, by reason of its extended frontier towards
R o mag n a , w^ou 1 d be a very us e f u 1 all y , a \x r y for m i d abl e en era y . As
to the Pope, the Florentines quickly decided to send Gian Vittorio
Soderini, but he being too ill to start before the 7th December,
Alessandro Bracci went as his substitute in the meantime. They
could not, however^ come to so speedy a decision respecting the
Duke, for without w^anting to make him their enemy, neither did
they wish to contract a friendly alliance that might compel them
to assist him. They had certainly no interest in irritating him,
but it was undesirable to attract the hostility of the rebels who
were in arms and in great force ; neither w^re they able nor
willing to come to a decision without previous consultation wnth
France. So that after much dispute it w^as impossible to get a
majority for the nomination of an ambassador, and it was finally
arranged that the Ten should despatch a special envoy,' The
choice fell upon Niccolo Machiavelli, who, though not yet raised
to the rank and renown required in an ambassador, had proved his
ability on previous missions, and, as Cerretani observes, was '*a
man to gain the favour of the fG\\%'^ ^ td est, to obtain the con-

* It was generally ibe office *>f the Signory not the Ten to send amliassadors to
Kings* Emperor, Pop-e, or other potentates* This dispute about the election is
mentioned by Farcnti, in his *' Storia di Firenzi *' (Nationa! Library of Plorenxe,
room 11, shelf II, Cod. I33» at sheet 62), and by Cerretani in his **i3toria di
Fircnzc" (liame place^ room lit shelf III, Cod. 74, al sheet 301^). Sec also ihc

. ""Dispacci'* of A. Giustinian, vol i. p. iSi^ note J«

^^^ " Cerrelani, loc, iii.

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN ROMAGNA. 307

fidence of those with whom he was in direct communication, as
afterwards with the Gonfalon iere SoderiniJ

As secretary of the Ten, he could not refuse so honourable a
charge ; yet he appears to have accepted it with much regret^ and
-set out most unwiUingly. Every one of these ra^issions drove him
into debt» for he was always ill paid^ and yet felt obliged to spend
money and keep up his official dignity. Besides he was conscious
of lacking both the rank and influence demanded for treating with
Valentinois upon honourable terms. And in addition to all this
he had recently married Marietta, daughter of Lodovico Corsini,
who was warmly attached to him, and much afflicted by so speedy
a separation.* In reality we know very little of this undoubtedly
important event in Machiavelli^s private life. But we know
that all that has been written to the injury of this poor Marietta,
asserting that her husband made allusion to her in his famous story
'* Belphagor/* has not a shadow of foundation. On the contrary,
a few of her letter > and others written to Machiavelli by friends,
prove her to have been an affectionate wife and a good mot her ,3
Nevertheless it is certain that Machiavelli seldom spoke of
his wife, nor does he appear to have often written to her^
generally contenting himself with sending messages by others.
Neither did his marriage put a stop to his dissipated mode
-of life, concerning which he spoke freely and wrote jestingly
to many^ among otht^rs to his friend Buonaccorsi, through
whom he received news of Marietta and sent her his own.
Without attempting to endow him with an ideal delicacy of
feelingj which was certainly unknown to him^ nothing justifies
us in concluding that he felt no affection for his wife and family.
We see instead in his conduct and mode of conversation the
results of the scant respect, if not positive contempt for women

* Althaugh elected in Seplember, Soderini did not come to Florence before I he
Ucginnmg of October, and entered upon his office towards the end of that month*
• Cerretani, <W. dt.y nt shcet.^ 301/ and 302 ; Parent! , ani. cit.^ at ^heet 65.

■■ We are unable to determine the precise date of the marriage \ but it certainly
took place in the year 1502, In 1503 a sun was born to him as we learn from
Mvcml of BuonaccoTsi^s letters* Buonaccorsi, who never txjfore mentioned Ma-
riellat speak> of her, as we shall see* during Machiavelli'* mission to Valenlinois,
in a way that leave* no doubt of her being already married. On the 27th of
October, 1 502, the Florentine amba&sadors in France make allusion, in a letter to
Machiavelli, which we ^hall t|uo(e later, to h-s having left his wife alone in Florence,
3 The first to prove this by authentic documents was Signor Inocenrio Giam-
pieri, in an article ii^Hin Machiavelli, published in the " Monumcnli ilcl (Jiardino
J'ucdni : ' Piatoia, Cino, 1846.

3o8

MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

that began in Italy on the decay of national morality, and of
the cynicism with regard to manners, introduced among us by
men of learnings that was habitual even among the best and
most affectionate of men. For instance, by all that we know of
Buonaccorsi, he must have had an excellent character in every
respect ; yet his letters to Machiavelli are noteworthy proofs of
what we have just stated, and in preparing them for the press
it is often necessary to expunge many words and even entire sen-
tences, to avoid arousing the disgust of the modern reader.

However this may be, Machiavelli^ unable to decline the
proffered mission, and with every reason to hope that his absence
would be short, made his wife believe that it would be still
shorter^ and set about his preparations for the journey.

On the 4th of October the safe-conduct was signed, and on the
following day the commission. This instructed him to start
without delay to present himself to the Duke, to make large pro-
testations of friendship, and assure him that the Republic had
positively refused all assistance to the conspirators, who had
already applied for it, ^* And on this head you can enlarge as
may seem best to you j but if His Excellency should question }T>u
upon other points, you will defer answering tilj- after communi-
cating %vith us and receiving our reply. '^ He was also charged to
ask a safe-conduct for Florentine merchants, having to pass
through the Duke's dominions, on their way to and from the
East^ and told to strongly urge that request, since ** the matter
was of vital importance to the city.** ^ All will understand how
w^eighty an undertaking it must have been for the modest Floren-
tine secretary to bandy words with a man like C^Tsar Borgia,.
who used few words, desired less^ and was at this moment
thirsting for revenge. Yet it was this mission, so unwillingly
accepted by MachtavcUi, that first showed the extent of his genius
as a political writer.

Still unversed in practical affairs, and by nature and tempera-
ment more inclined to thoughtful scrutiny than to action, he now
had to face a man who acted without speaking ; one who never
discussed a point, but signified his ideas by a gesture or movement|.
indicating that his resolution was already taken or carried out.

' ** Tal cosa c lo stomaco di cjuesta citti. Commisiuiic a Niccol(*> Machiavelli,
dclibcralo a di 5 Oltobre 1502: Opere," vol. vi. j^. 185, It is ma«lc out in the
name of the Ssgnoria, although MachiavcUi carried on his correspondence with
ihc Ten l>y whom he was f^*nt.

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN ROMAGNA. 309

\

While conscious that, intellectually, he was the Duke^s superior,
he acknowledged himself inferior as a man of action^ and saw
the small use, amid the clash of warring passions and the realities
of life, of subtle pondering and lengthened reflection. All this
tended to increase in him that admiration of which the first signs
were displayed during his journey to Urbino with Cardinal
Soderini. Borgia, as w^e have already noted, was neither a great
statesman nor a great captain, but a species of brigand-chief,
whose strength principally lay in the support of France and the
Vatican. He had had, however, the ability to create a State out
of nothing, intimidating all men, including the Pope himself ;
and when taken by surprise by a large number of powerful enemies,
had contrived to free himself, and get rid of them by means of
boundless audacity and devilish craft. His audacity and craft
were the qualities which so many then admired, and Machiavelli
even more than the rest. Considering these qualities in them-
selves, and scruples apart, the question with him was : what might
they not achieve could they only be directed towards a different
and nobler purpose ? And in this way his imagination began to
take fire.

The Duke, on the other hand, finding himself confronted by a
man trained in learning and in the office work of the Florence
Chancery, was conscious of his own practical supcriortty, and
plainly showed this consciousness in his conversation. The man,
however, was Nicco!6 Machiavelli j whose keen vision pierced far
beneath the surface of things, and who, if sometimes deficienl in
the instinct suggesting quick repartee and immediate action, had
an incomparable power of analysing the actions of others after
the event. He had neither ability nor inclination to take part in
what happened before his eyes ; but now for the first time his
mind began to formulate with clearness and precision the idea of
giving to politics an assured and scientific basis, treating them as
having a proper and distinct value of their own, entirely apart
from their moral worth ; as the art, in short, of finding the means
to the end, whatever that end might be. And although the
Republic he served was by no means overburdened with moral
scruples, in Caesar Borgia he first beheld the personification
of this art, living and breathing before his eyes ; he therefore
chose him for its representative type, and at last came to admire
him almost as a creation of his own intellect. But we shall recur
to this subject later on.

310

MACHIAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES.

Meanwhile Machiavelli began his journey upon horseback, and
reaching Scarpcria traveled on by post to Imola, where he arrived
on the 7th October ; and at the eighteenth hour of the day pre-
scntfd himself to the Duke without even changing his clothes,
^^ catHikkerecci'o^- — horseman like as he was — to make use of his
own expression. At that period the rebellion had barely com-
menced, and the gravity of it was not yet understood. The
Duke listened without reply to the protestations of friendship
offered by Machiavelli in the name of the Republic^ evidently
receiving them as conventional forms of speech. Then he 5aid
that he desired to confide to the envoy secrets which he had
told to no living man ; and began to relate how the Orsini had
at one time supplicated him, almost on their knees, to proceed
to attack Florence, and how he had always refused his consent -
He had had no hand in their expedition on Arezzo, but had
not regretted it, since the Florentines had broken faith with him.
However, on the receipt of missives from France and the Pope^
he had been obliged to order them to withdraw. Hence the ran-
cours leading them (the Orsini) to this ** Diet of bankrupts ; '* *
but they were fools for their pains, because the Pope being alive,
and the King of France in Italy, '* the ground was burning under
their feet^ and it needed more water to put it out than such men
as those could throw," The conclusion of the whole discourse
was, that this was the moment for the Florentines to conclude a
firm alliance with him. If they waited til! he had *' patched up
matters with the Orsini," there would be as many difficulties and
hesitations as before. They must declare themselves and come at
once to terms. Machiavelli was obliged to answer that he must
write to Florence, which so much vexed the Duke, that he would
add nothing more, when pressed to say something definite, as to
what kind of agreement he wished, &c. ** And notwithstanding
that 1 pressed him, to extract something definite, he always kept
wide of the point." = On the 9th, the day on which the rebels
signed their league at La Magione, the Dukt summoned Machia-
velli, and showed him so much courtesy, that the latter wrote that
he knew not how to describe it. He made him listen to some
favourable letters from France, showing him their well-known

' The lelter is dnlcd 7th October : *' Opcre,*' vol i. p. 1S8. The final Dte(
at La Magiinie was hcki on the gih. This» as we have &aid, proves ihat others
had been held before.

* LeUcr of the 7tli October, 1502.

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN RO MAGNA. 311

I

¥

signature, and again insisted on the necessity of a speedy agree-
ment* ** One can plainly see," concluded Machiavelli^ after giving
many details, " that the Duke is now ready for any bargain ;
but it would be advisable to send an ambassador empowered to
offer definite terms/' ' The secretary and agents of the Duke
all repeated the same things, pressing him on every side.
Then came the news of the defeat of Don Ugo and Don
Micheletto by the Orsini and Vitelli^ and Machiavelli had the
greatest difficulty to learn the particulars^ ** for at this Court all
is arranged with admirable secrecy^ and matters that are to be
hidden are never alluded to/' With his usual impenetrability the
Duke affected the utmost contempt for his adversaries and the
number of men-at-arms which they pretended to have, saying that
it was well to call them " men-at-arms in blank^ which means in
nothing/^ Among the rest Vitellozzo had never been seen to do
anything '* beseeming a man of courage^ alwa}^ excusing himself
on account of having the French sickness. He is fit for nought
else than pillaging defenceless places, robbing those who run away
from him, and committing treachery such as this/' And the
Duke enlarged a good deal on this subject, speaking quite gently
without any show of anger. ^ In these days danger had made him
more tractable, and Machiavelli was able to obtain the safe-conduct
for the Florentine merchants^ which he instantly forwarded to the
Ten, 3 to whom he was continually sending all the intelligence it
was possible to collect.

On the 23rd of October he had another long conference with
the Duke I who read to him a very encouraging letter from the
King of France, adding that the French lances would soon arrive,
and also the foreign infantry. Then he spoke with great indigna-
tion of the treachery of the Orsini^ who were already trying to
come to terms with him, " Now/^ said he, *' they are playing the
part of friends, and write me kind letters.** ** To-day Signor
Paolo is to come to see me, to-morrow the Cardinal, and thus
they think to bamboozle me at their pleasure. But I, on the other
hand, am only dallying with them, I listen to everything, and
take my own time/* He again repeated that the Florentines
ought to conclude a strict friendship with him.*

All his conversation hinged upon this point, to which as yet the

* Letter of the yih October, 1502, ^ First lelter of the 20tb October.
3 See the '* Legazbiii : OpL-rc/' voL vj. p. 225*

* letter nf the ajrtl Otober, 1502.

$t2

MACHIAVELWS LIFE AND TIMES.

orator could give no reply* And what greatly added to Machia-
velli*s perplexity was his inability to discover what would be
the probable result of the agreement. On the 27th of OctobeFi
Paolo Orsini, in the disguise of a messenger, came to treat in
person, " but what is now the Duke's mind I cannot tell : I do
not see how he can pardon this offence^ nor how the Orsini can
cease to dread him." ' The Secretary Agapito informed him that
nothing was yet concluded, because the Duke wished to add a
certain clause to the terms, ** that, if accepted, opens him a
window, and, if refused, a door by which to escape from these
stipulations, at which even babes might laugh/^^ Other agents
continued to repeat to him that this was the moment to conclude
a friendly alliance with Florence, who ought to give the promised
Condottai without loss of time. ** As to the agreement with the
rebels it was not even settled, and in any case he need not trouble
about it, since where there are men there are ways of managing
them. A few only of the Orsini will be spared ; for as to
Vitellozzo, who is the real enemy of Florence, the Duke will
not hear a word, knowing him to be a venomous snake, the brand
of Tuscany and Italy/*

At last the terms of the agreement were concluded, dating irom
the 28th of October, signed by the Duke and Paolo Orsini,
and Machiavelii sent the Ten a secretly obtained copy of them
with his despatch of the joth of November .3 Peace was sworn,
and a league for offence and defence between the Duke and the
rebels, with the obligation of reducing U rhino and Camerino to
obedience. The Duke promised to continue the previous stipends
to the Orsini and Vitelli, without obliging both to be in
camp at the same time, and the cardinal was only to stay in
Rome when it pleased him to be there. As to Bentivoglio,
he was left out of the agreement, since, being under French
protection, the Borgia dared not break any pledges made to
him. The mutual distrust with which both parties drew up
terms was so plainly evident, that it is hard to understand
how the Orsini and Vitelli could let themselves be so miser-
ably entrapped, unless indeed they were frightened by the Duke^s
French reinforcements, while want of money made it impossible
for them to continue to struggle against a powerful foe with
France and the Pope at his back. They hoped to gain time

* Letter of the 27th October. = Lelter of ihe 8th Novcrober, 1501.

3 This agreemem is in the " Opere," vol. iv. p. 264.

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN RO MAGNA. 313

in order to begin over again \ but the Duke was on the alert, and
in spite of being surrounded by many enemies, it was easy for him
to lop off some, and thus weaken the rest — a course impossible
for his foes who had only a single individual to contend with.^

Very graphically and regularly Machiavelli described the march
of all these events to the Ten, and when on the 1 ith of November
those magistrates complained of having had no letters from him
for eight days,' he answered : " Your excellencies must hold me
excused, remembering that matters cannot be guessed, and that
we have to do with a prince who governs for himself, and that he
who would not write dreams and vagaries, has to make sure of
things, and in making sure of them time goes, and I try to use time
and not throw it away*" ^ In fact, he threw into the observation
of the drama then unrolled before his eyes, all the ardour of one
seeking for truth in a scientific spirit and method. At times he
seemed to be an anatomist dissecting a corpse, and feeling sure of
discovering in it the germ of an unknown disease. He had an
unequalled gift of faithful and graphic narrative, and his style
attains to a vigour and original ity^ of which modern prose had
as yet given no example. In these letters we see Machiavelli's
poHtical doctrines growing into shape under our eyes, we note his
rigourness of method, and also find the greatest eloquence of
which he was capable.

Yet, strange to say, he was thoroughly discontented, and daily
begged for his recall with increasing insistence. We have already
noted some of the motives of this discontent. Naturally restless,
he dishked staying long in one place ;* and on this, as on all his

* Thus wrote Machbvclli in his letter of the ijtb Novcmbcrt and in that of the
201 h he related how he had sai^l to the Duke, thai for that reason he had always
juilged ihal he |the Duke) would be victorious, and thai had he written what he
thought from the tifsl, he shouUl have proved himself a prophet. Later he built
up a theor)' upon this observation, giving it as a general rule» that one who is *'
surrounded by many enemies, can easily weaken and conquer them exactly because
he can divide ibcm, which is not possible lor his adversaries.

' Letter of the Ten, signed by Marccllo, dated nth November, 1502. See
** Opere " (P.M,), voL iv, p. 168. Huonaccorsi repeated the same complaint in
his letters.

3 I setter of the 13 th Nnvemlicr.

* In a letter of the 18th November, Buonaccorsi tells him : " Having so much
firmness, that you cannot keep in the same mind for an hour," ** Carte del
Machiavelli," case iii., No. 16. Ser Agostino Vespucci da Terranuova wrote to
him on the 14th of October : ** Vides igitnr quo nos inducat animus iste tuus
equitandi, evagandi ac cursitandi tarn avidus/^ Idem, cassetta iii.» No, 58.

314 MAC HI A VELLI'S LIFE AND TIMES,

legations^ could not pay his way with the scanty sum allowed
him by the RepubUc ; and neitJier wishing to follow the example
of those who Jivcd at court at the Duke's expense, nor to compro-
mise the dignity of his position, he was obliged to spend freely
and contract debts. His wife, finding herself forsaken almost as
soon as married^ for her husband, after having promised to come
back to her in a week, seldom wrote to her, and left her to
struggle through domestic embarrassments^ was daily at the
Chancery asking news of him, making complaints, and worrying
Buonaccorsi and other friends who in their turn continually
wrote to him upon the subject.'

To these reasons may be added others of even greater import-
ance to him. It was certainly a most troublesome mission to have
to temporize w^ith the Duke without the power to settle anything^
to lind him daily more impatient, and be derisively told by his
agents that : ** he wdio w^aits for time and has it, seeks better bread
than wheaten bread,"'' At any rate, matters could only be con-
cludeil by an ambassador charged with clear and txact pro-
posals. In his opinion it had been an error to send one to Rome
instead of Imola, because it was the Duke that was to be satisfied
by the agreement, not the Pope, who could never undo what w^as
done by the Duke, whereas the contrary might easily occur. ^ But
although MachiaveMi complained that these anxieties and worries
were injuring his health, his laments led to nothing,* for the

' On the iSth Ociolit^f, 1502, Buonaccorsi wrote to him lU Iroola. thai Mnnetia.
asked (tboui him and complained of hi^ii remaining absent so long when he had
promised to cume lack to her in a week. She would not write to him herself,

and she docs thousands of mad things, . . » so in ihe devil's name pray come
buck." ** Carte dd Machiavclli/' case iiL No, 5. And in another of the 21st
Dccemljer, 1502, he says to him : •* Monna Marietta blasphemes God, and thinks
that she has thrown away Ixjth herself and her property. I'or goodness* siake give
orders that she may havi' her own dower, like others of her position, otherwise
she wdl lose all patience with you. . * . I now sit in your place at certain Uttlc
suppers given by the Ten. , . , &c," Idem, case iii. No. 17,

= Letter of the 13th November, 1502.

^ Letter of the I4ih December. On the 27th June, 1502, Bishop Soderini had
written to the Signoria from Urbino, thai the duke had told him, that as regarded
war matters, it was he who ruled Rome, not Rome him.*' ** Opere *' (I*,M.), vol.
iv. p. 19.

* On the 22nd November he wrote from Imola i "Besides perceiving thai I can
do no usefid thing in this city, I am in a bad stale of body, and two days ago I had
ft great fever, and stiH feel ailing. Likewise there is no one to hwk after my
affairs at home, and I lose in many w^iys.*' And from many of his friends* letters
it was evident that he was compelled to borrow money at this time. And in hi»

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN RO MAGNA. 315

¥

Florentines had excellent reasons for wishing to temporize. The
Republic could place no faith either in the Borgia or the Orsini
and Vitelli, for alliances made with them were only obstTved as
long as suited their own purposes. The basis of the Republic*^
policy in Italy was the French alliance, which if not altogether
safe, afforded better security than one with the Borgia. To
the latter words alone were to be giv^en, and althougli an ambaS'
sador might be sent to the Pope in token of respect, none must
be despatched to the Duke who wanted to bring matters to the
point. Besides^ before sending one to him it was requisite to wait
for intelligence and instructions from France. This was the con-
tinual purport of the letters of the Ten to MachiavelH, no little to
his discontent^ since his condition still remained unchanged.

Then too it w^as most necessary for Florence tt> have exact in-
formation regarding the intentions as well as the movements of
the Ouke, and on that account the importance of Machiavelli's
despatches being now universally recognized, no one would hear o!
his recall, particularly as no satisfactory person could be found
to replace him. Niccolo Valori wrote to him on the 2 1st of
October : '* And truly there is so much force in the two last
letters you have sent| and they so well show ihe excellence of
your judgment, that they could not have been better approved.
And I spoke at length of them with Fiero Soderini, who does not
think it possible to recall you from your post.'^ ' Later he was
addressed by Buonaccorsi^ Marcello Virgilio and the Gonfalonier
himself^ who all repeated that it was impossible to recall him^
since it was necessary to have some one at the Duke's court, and
none fitter than himself could be found, ^ At the same time the

first letter of the 6th December, he wrote as usual, spiking to be recalled, ** to
rdievc the government of this expense, and me of this inconvenieiice» since for the
last twelve days I have been feeling very ill, nnd if 1 go on like thin, I fear I may
have to come back in a basket/*

* ** Carte del Machiavclli," case iii. Xo. 30. On the I nh of October he had
written to the same : " Vour di>iConrse and the portrait could not have lieen more
approved^ and all recojiTnUe what I have particularly noticed in you, a clear, proper
and sincere mode of narration, upon which one can rely." Idem, case iti. No.
11. The Ten, Soderini, many friends wrote to the .same effect. See among others
the letters of Soderini, dated 14th and sSth Novemlier, *' Opere '* (P- M.), vol.
iv. pp. 169 and 201.

* M. Virgilio*s letter is dated 7th of November* 1502, and is among the ** Carle
del Machiavelli/* case in. No. 32. In it he says that he gives him this now very
unwillingly, for, " I find myself wnth my own affairs* thine, and thy lectures all
on my hands at once.** Which is a proof of what we have elsewhere remarked^
that the First Secretary still continued to teach at the University.

316

MACHIAVELirS UFE AND TIMES.

■Y

Gonfalonier and the Ten sent him twenty -five gold ducats and
sixteen hraccia (eleven yards) of damask, the first towards his own

ej^enses, the cloth to be given away in presents.'

And there is still another reason to be added to those already
mentioned. It is true that Machiavelli found the amplest materials
for study in observing the actions of V^alentioois and those around
him \^ it is true that he regarded politics as abstract from
morality ; equally true that he was troubled by few scruples of
conscience where State affairs were concerned ; yet notwithstand-
ing all this it was intolerable to one of his disposition, to be con-
tinually involved in so dense a tangle of infamy ; to live among
men steeped in crime, ever ready for treachery and bloodshed,
amenable to nothing but brute forcc^ without having the slightest
power to prevent or modify their misdeeds. No opinion can
be more erroneous than that held by those supposing that the
actions of Valentinois at this period were counselled and directed
by Machiavdli.3 On the contrary^ all his letters tend to prove the
great difficulty he experienced in discovering the intentions and
secret designs of the Duke, and how often he failed in this being
kept altogether in the dark. The IXike did not heed the advice
of the Florentine secretary, whom he sometimes seemed almost to
ridicule. Machiavelli was neither bloodthirsty nor cruel, indeed
the gentleness of his disposition made all contact with evil
most repugnant to him. Frequently, during this legatio n, ex-
pressions fell from his pen, betraying a certain agon izecft error

* The letter of the Gonfalomere SotJerini, written on ihe aist December, is also
bcluded among the *' Carte del Machiavelli/' and was published in ihe " Opcre *'
(P* M.)| vol. iv. p, 243. See loo the letters of the Ten published in the same
volume, at pp. 239-41.

» On the 27th Octol>er, 1 502, the Florentine ambassadors in France, Luigi Delia
Slufa and Ugolino MartelH, wrote to him t '*We should have some compossicm
on you, wht^ like ourselves, have had to leave your wife and your home, were it not
that you must have been already weaned out by the grave nature of your business
in Florence, and that you must willingly relax your mind and repose your
body ; that change of air and seeing other faces, e^pccially when of such a sort,
generally sharpens the wits ; and therefore we congratulate you, and we pray
you, when you have time, lo write us some news." **Opere** (P. MJ, vol. iv.

PP' J 32-34-

^Pwserini, in his notes to Adcmollo's romnncc Marietta dei Ricci, f^aid outright,
that Machiavelli believing to have found in Borgia ** the fitting instninicni to carry
out his cherifeheil idea of the liberty and union of Italy, iftstii^atcti him to kis
fammis trfachay ai Sim^^agiia,^^ (Note to to cliap, iv.) lie repeals this in Ihe
** Opere '* (P. M.). This opinion > maintained before and after, by other writcrt
al&o, foun<l in Gervinns one of its first and most energetic oppgnents*

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN RO MAGNA, 317

N

beneath a veil of cynicism. Then, to banish the memory of
horrible sights, he wrote ribald and facetious letters to his official
coUeagueSp u-hich made them burst with laughter,* as they told
him in their replies, and, in their turn, they related to him all
the gossip and scandal of the Chancery — where^ in his absence^
there was always great disorder — ^or else their own excesses and in-
decencies.

At other times^ weary of such themes, he withdrew to meditate
on the writers of antiquity. We find him writing to Buonaccorsi
with feverish insistence for " Plutarch^s Lives/* and he was con-
tinually applying to this kind and obliging friend for books^
money, and help of all kinds. In a letter of the 21st of October,
Buonaccorsi wrote to him : *^ We have been searching for
* Plutarch's Lives/ but it is not to be bought in Florence.
Have patience, for we must write to Venice for it \ and to tell
you the truth, you are a worry to ask for so many things." *
A strange spectacle to see Machiavelli, while divided between
contemplation of the heroes of Plutarch and of the deeds of
Valentinois, beginning to create a science of politics founded
on the history of the past and experience of the present. Scho-
lastic writers had sought the first origin and basis of human
society^ starting from the conception of God and the Supreme
Good, and digressing into reflections having no weight on the
practical affairs of life. Even Dante had been unable in his
** Monarch ia •* to free himself from theories that were too ab-
stract and artificial. For similar theories Machiavelli had neither
time, opportunity, nor liking. Face to face with the realities of
lifei he investigated the ruling laws of human actions, in order to
formulate useful precepts for the government of nieni- Lie sought
to know the sources from which the statesman derives his strength ^
and how that strength should be employed to attain the desired
end.

Meanwhile it became increasingly difficult to obtain audience of

'A letter of Bartolommeo RuRini, dated the 23rd' October, 1502, said : *' Your
Ts lo Biagio and the others are most giateful to all| and the jests and merry
contained in them make all crack their jaws ukh laughter. Your wife
desircv you, and often sends here to ask of yon and of your return."

' "Carte del Machiavelli, *' case iii. No. 6. His affection for Machiavelli was so

r great, that on the iSlh of October 1502^ after writing to him concerning it, he

added : " For ihc which I do not desire you 10 be [jratehil, since even if I wished

i not to love you an<i be all youns, I could not help myself, being as it were forced

tby nature lo love you/' Idem, cnse iii. Xo. 5.

3i8 MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

the Duke, who always harped on the necessity of concluding an alli-
ance, confirming the already stipulated Condotta^ and, whenever
forced to listen to fresh protestations of friendship, without any
definite proposals, broke out indignantly : ** Been ! nothing can be
settled " with these Florentines ! ' Yet from time to time he
summoned Machiavelli, and under colour of making fresh confi-
dences, tried to see how the land lay. One day he told him that
in past times Giovan Paolo Baglioni had begged for a letter
empowering him to follow Vitellozzo and assist him in the restora-
tion of the Medici in Florence, and that he had written the letter.
-** Now I know not," he continued, looking at Machiavelli,
^* whether he may have boasted of this to lay the blame at my
door." And the Secretary' replied that he had heard nothing of
the matter.' Another day he confided to him with much gravity
how Paolo Orsini declared that the Florentines had just offered
him a Condotta for the army before Pisa, and that he had refused
it. Thereupon Machiavelli asked whether Orsini had given the
name of the person bearing the offer, or had shown the letters,
and if he was in the habit of telling lies. The Duke, perceiving
that the secretary would not fall into the trap, replied that
Orsini had neither mentioned names, nor shown letters ; but
had told plenty of lies. "And thus this matter passed off in
laughter, although at first he had spoken of it with disquiet, pre-
tending to believe it and be vexed by it." ^ He then spoke of a
secret agreement made by the Venetians in Rimini, by means of a
compatriot who dwelt there, adding that he — the Duke — had
caused him to be hung to save their honour." After uttering this
warning, as it were by chance, he went on to talk of the conquest
of Pisa, remarking that " it would be one of the most glorious
any captain could make." ^* Then he referred to Lucca, say-
ing that it was the richest of States, and a mouthful for a gour-

' Letter of the 20lh Novcml)cr.

^ Letter of the 20th November. In a despatch of the 7th August, 1 502, Gius-
tinian wrote, that the Pope confessed that he had heen dragged into seconding
Vitellozzo and the Orsini in the affair of Arezzo. The ambassador, with his usual
keenness, drew the conclusion that he spoke in this way, as a measure of precau-
tion, having probably written compromising letters to Orsini and Vitellozzo.

3 In the despatch of the 13th Noveml)er, Giustinian writes that the Pope had
told him how the Orsini were continually templing the Florentines with the offer
of giving them Pisa, *' and these fools believe ihem ; . . . for to get Pisa they
would sell their souls to the devil, would abandon the king of France, ourseh'cs,
and all the rest of the world."

THE MISSION TO VALENTINO IS IN ROMAGNA. 319

mand. He afterwards added that if he, Florence and Ferrara
were allied, they need be afraid of nothing." ' It was the old story
of the cat and the raouse» onlv in this case the mouse with whom
he tried to play wa^ Niccolb Machiavelli.

Meanwhile the negotiations with the rebels were still being
continued, in order to drag as many as possible into them.
Vitellozzo was still restive and hesitated, so that he was spoken
of with much indignation at court, **This traitor has given us
a dagger-thrust, and now thinks to heal it with words,'* ' Yet he
too was at last caught in the noose. When all was concluded,
the Duke of Urbino again found himself a!one and abandoned ;
wherefore he had to immediately provide for his own safety, and,
after demolishing some of his fortresses, leaving others in the
care of trusty adherents, he took flight upon a mule, bemoaning
his sad fate^ and hotly pursued by the Pope and Valentinois. At
Castel Durante he fell into a swoon from fatigue and suffering.
Yet after all he succeeded in his escape. ^ Antonio da San Savino
was sent as governor over his dominions, and ruled with tolerable
moderation ; but in Ro magna a certain Messer Ramiro showed
the most unheard of cruelty in a similar post.** At the same time
the Duke set out with his army for Forll, accompanied by
Machiavelli, who on the 14th of December wrote from Cesena
that all was uncertainty and suspense, for that not one lance had
been dismissed ; and in spite of the treaty one naturally judged
of the future by the past, which compelled one to believe that the
Duke now meant to make sure of his enemies. He harped
upon the necessity of coming to an agreement by means of an
ambassador and again begged to be recalled. ^ But the Republic
was less than ever inclined to listen to him now that matters were
drawing to a conclusion, and France allowed it to be seen that
she would no longer leave the Borgia unbridled.

In fact, the four hundred and fifty French Lances who had so
much added to the Duke's prestige, were suddenly recalled, and
took their departure thereby^ wrote Machiavelli, ** driving this

I » First leuer of ihe 6th December. » Letter of the 28th nf November^ 1502.

1 ** Leuero ili Fiero Artlinghdli, Commissario Fiorentino,'^ publish«il by C.
Gucistt. " Archivio xStorico," Series lii, vol xix. No, isi, p. 2r and fol,

* Knawn in<!iffere.^m!y as Mes!»cr Kiminu or MtfSAer Rnmiro tl' Oreo; his real
name was Kcmigius tie Lorqiia. See the '*Dispacci" of A, Giu^linian, voL \.
p. 226, note.

5 Letter of the 14th of December, 1502, from Cesena.

$9Q

MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

court out of its wits . . . ; and every one is building castles in
the air.'* The reason of this sudden change was not then
understood^ and none could foresee its possible consequences/
It is certain however that this fact, that of aU the strong-
holds of Urbino being either dismantled or still held in Guido-
baldo's name^ and the impossibility of placing any confidence in
the recently concluded agreement, ** had already deprived the
Duke of half his forces and two-thirds of his reputation/'* Yet
his artillery continued its march as though nothing had happened;
1,000 Swiss had arrived at Faenza, and, between Swiss and
Gascons, he had already a force of about 1,500 men. No one
could guess the object of his movements ; all was mystery, for
**this lord never reveals anything excepting when doing it, and
he does it under pressure of necessity, on the moment and not
otherwise ; wherefore I pray your Excellencies to excuse me and
not charge me with negligence, when I cannot satisfy your
Excellencies with news, for at most times I fail to satisfy even
myself/^ ^ And the mystery was farther increased by a strange
circumstance that took place at this time. Messer Rimino or
Ramiro^ the duke's trusted instrument in Roniagna, where he
had committed most atrocious cruelties to bring the country into
subjectiotii and excited universal hatred, came from Pesaro to
Cesena and, to the astonishment of all» w^as arrested on the 22nd
of December and thrown into a dungeon,* Four days later
Maehiavclli wrote to the Ten: **This morning Messer Rimino
has been found cut into two pieces, on the Piazza where he still
lies, and all the people have been able to see him ; the cause of
his death is not well known, excepting that such was the pleasure
of the prince, who shows us that he can make and unmake men
according to their deserts/' s

■ Letters of the 20th ntid 23rd of December.

' Giusiiuian, despalch of iht; 29lh of December, and nole to the same.

3 Letler of the 26th of December, la.sl of those ftTitten frum Ccscna.

•• Letter of the 23rd of Deceml)er, 1502.

5 Letter of the 26th of Decemljcr. In chap, vii, of ihc ** Principe." Macliift-
velli says in allusion to this faci, that the Duke wished to clear him&elf from the
charges of cruelty brought against him on account of Messer Rimino's misdeeds
as soon as the latter bad freed him of his enemies. See also the ** Dispacci " of
A. Giustmian, vol. i. p. 293,

In the same letter Machiavelli thanked the Ten for having sent him the iwenly-
five gold ducats and the black damask ot which we have already sjwkcn* And
h propos to this Buonaccorsi wrote to him on the 22nd of the same month : '* V'oii
will crib a coat of this cloth, rascal thai you are." See the "Opcre," nole lo
p. 332 of vol vi.

i

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN ROM AG A' A. 321

But now things were hurrying to their end ; all was in train
for the taking of Sinigaglia. From the days of Sixtus IV. this
city had belonged to Giovanni Delia Rovere, the husband of
Giovanna, sister of Guidobaldo dTTrbinOj and now^ by the death
of that nobleman, had passed in 150T to his son Francesco Maria»
a boy of eleven years, whom Alexander VI- had nominated
Prefect of Rome, like his father before hiin» The first time
Guidobaldo had taken flight, his little nephew had accompanied
him, but was now again at Sinigaglia with his mother, who
governed for her son, aided by the counsels of his guardian^ the
celebrated Andrea Doria, and was styled the Prefettessa. Doria,
perceiving the hasty advance of the Duke's army, and being
already confronted by the troops of Vitellozzo and the Orsini,
who were disposed to attack the city, first placed in safety the
mother and child entrusted to his care, and then ordering his
men to defend the citadel to the utmost, hurried in person to
Florence.'

On the 29th of December, Machiavelli wrote a letter from
Pesaro that was lost on the way, giving a very minute nar-
ration of what he afterwards summarized in other letters ;
namely, how Vitellozzo and the Orsini had entered Sinigaglia^
and how the Duke on hearing this ordered them to station their
men in the suburb outside the walls, and instantly marched his
army towards the city, which he entered on the morning of the
31st of December. The first to seek his presence was Vitellozzo^
who having resisted reconciliation more stoutly than the others^
knew himself to be the most hated. This captain came humbly
forward, cap in hand, mounted on a mule, and unarmed. He
was followed by the Duke of Gravina, Paolo Orsini, Oliverotto da
Fermo, and all four accompanied the Duke through the streets of
the city, to the house prepared for his reception. The Duke, who
had already given the signal to those who were to seize ihem,
made them prisoners as soon as they entered the house, ordered
their foot soldiers in the suburb to be stripped and disarmed, and
sent half his army to perform the same office on the men-at-arms
quartered in the neighbouring castles at six or seven miles from
Sinigaglia. And on the same day Machiavelli immediately re-
ported the event, adding r ** The sack is still going on, although
it is now 23 o'clock'^ (an hour before sunset). *' I am much
troubled in my mind ; I know not if I can send this letter,
* Ugoliiii, " Sioria dci Conti c Duchi d'Urbiuo/' vol. li. pp. 106-115.

VOL I. 33

3^2

MACHIAVELLVS LIFE AND TIMES.

having no one to carry it. I will write at length in another ;
and it is my opinion that they (the prisoners) will not be alive
to-morrow morning/* *

Another letter, much longer and of more importance, written
at the same date^ was lost. We have, however, that of the ist
of Januar\% 1503^ in which he relates how towards one o'clock of
the night, he had been summoned by the Duke, **who, with the
brightest face in the world, expressed his satisfaction at this
triumph, adding wise words and expressions of exceeding affection
towards our Florence. He said that this was the service which
he had promised to render you at the fitting moment. And as
he had declared that he would offer you his friendship all the
more pressingly^ the surer he was of himself, so now he kept that
promise ; then he expounded all the reasons inducing him to
desire this friendship, in words which excited my admiration. He
also begged me to write to you, that having destroyed his capital
enemies, who were also those of Florence and France, and
uprooted the tares which threatened to overrun Italy, you should
now give hijn a manifest token of friendsliip, by sending troops
towards Perugia, to arrest the flight of Duke Guidobaldo who
had gone in that direction ^ and to take him prisoner should he enter
Tuscany, It has likewise happened that, at ten o'clock last night,
the Duke had V^itellozzo and Messer Oliverotto da Fermo both
strangled ; " = ^* the other two have been left living, in order, as

' Letter of ilic 31st of December, 1502.

^ The letter only 5,lalcs that they were put to death, but it is known that they
were strangled, and Machiavclli hitnscif mentions it elsewhere. At chap, viii. of
the '* Principe," he relates that Oliverotto da Fermo, brought up liy his unclct
Giovanni Fogliani, and sent to tighi under Paolo and then under Vitellofzo \'itdli|
hftd become the chief leader of the latter*s troops. Longing to make himself
master of Fermo, where many were discontented with his unclc^s rule, he first made
an agTeement with a few of the citizens, and then WTOtc to his uncle thai he
wished to come and see him and his native city* He arrived with a hundred
horsemen, was, by orders of his uncle^ most honourably received ; gave a grand
dinner to him and the principal men of Fermo, and then had them all put to
death.

Niccol6 Vitclli had five sons, four of whom died a violent death. The elder,
Giovanni, by a cannon shot at the siege of Osimo ; the second, Camillo, by a stone
at Circello in the kingdom of Naples, in fighting for the French ; Paolo was
beheaded ; Vitelloizo strangled.

Gregorovius in a note to p. 4S3 of vol. vii. of his '* Geschichte,'* ^ic, remarks,
how ^ prapos to these murders, Giovio wrote in his " Life of Cotsar Borgia/* that
** he had assassinated the Orsini by means of a splendid deception ; and the King
of France had said— according to the orator of Ferrara^that it was * an acLioa

»

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOiS IN ROMAGNA, 323

it is thotighti to see whether the Pope has seized the Cardinal ^
and the others who were in Romei and it is surmised that he has
seized them ; that they may all be cheerfully got rid of at the same
time." The citadel had already surrendered ; the army had that
same day begun its march towards Perugia, before going on to
Sienna ; Machiavelli followed on its track, and it being now the
winter season, the soldiery and all following the camp were
exposed to many hardships.^*

Turmoil and disorder everywhere prevailed, and all the petty
tyrants of the land fled in dismay on the Duke's approach, as
though pursued by a dragon.^ It can easily be believed that
amid so great a confusion few letter-carriers could be found, and
still fewer w^ho were trustworthy, and for this reason many of
Machiavelli *s despatches were lost. On the 4th of January,
1 503, he gave notice that the soldiery of the Vitelli and Orsini
had managed to escape. Meanwhile the march was continued^
and the BagHoni fled from Purugia, which surrendered on the
6th, Their sisters, on reaching the frontier wherCj in con-
sequence of superior orders, the Florentine commissary^ Piero
Ardinghelli, had repulsed all the refugees, disguised their young
daughters as boys, preferring to trust them to the commissary's

mpassion, rather than see them fall into the hands of the
enemy. And Ardinghelli wrote to the Gonfalonier Soderini on
the 19th of Januar)^, saying : ** Now, I cannot avoid being stirred
to pity by the spectacle of so much youth and misfortune. . . .
I have preferred to write to your Excellency in person, to know
if I may give shelter to these four women ^ or at least to the
:wo damsels. . . . Should this not be contrary to the govern-
ment's intentions, having a natural compassion for the afflicted,

worthy of a Roman.* " Thc^ Venetians had disapprnvetl of the tieed because of
its great cruelly ; but the Femara orator there had declared thai they utighl to
bend their heads, when he proved ro them that the Tope and Duke had been quite
right '* t'fiaut to quarter the% men, and utterly r«x»t oul their family." It is
singular too that on this occasion I:-«ibella Gonzaga, with a letter of the 15th of
January, 1503, s<;nt the Duke 100 masks from Mantua, and he warmly thanked
her for them in a letter of the 1st of February See documents xliv. ami \U\ in
ihe " Lucrezia Borgia '* of Gregorovius.
» Cardinal Orsioi.
* Letter o( the 1st of January, 1503.

^ *' Senti Perugia e Siena ancor la vampa
Deir Idra, e ciaschedun di quei tiranni
Fuggendo innanzi alia sua furia scampa."

Machiavellii ** Decennale," dec. 1.

324 MACHIAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES.

I should be greatly obliged to you." ' And the request was
granted.

On the 8th Niccol6 Machiavelli wrote from Assisi that all were
wondering why no one had yet come from Florence to con-
gratulate the Duke, who repeated that by his after-achievements
he had rendered signal service to the Republic, for " it would
have cost your Excellencies two hundred thousand ducats to put
an end to Vitellozzo and the Orsini, and even then you could
not have done it so neatly." And meanwhile he pursued his
march, always " proceeding with unheard-of good fortune, and
more than human energy and hope," ' resolved to expel the
tyrant Pandolfo Petrucci from Sienna, and, if possible, take him
captive, to which end the Pope tried to " lull him to sleep with
Briefs," for it was well, said the Duke, ** to deceive those who
have been masters of treachery." He did not attempt to take
the city, for that was forbidden by France ; but he was de-
termined to get rid of Pandolfo, who had been " the brain " of
the conspiracy.3

On the 13th of January they were at Castello della Pieve, and
as the new Florentine ambassador, Jacopo Salviati, was at last
on the point of arriving, Machiavelli prepared for his own
departure, which occurred in fact on the 20th. First, by way
of replacing the many letters which had been lost, he wrote
one containing a Munniary of all the events that had happened,
but unfortunately the first sheet is all remaining to us of it. In
this, with j;reat zeal and care, he begins to give a general sketch
of the expedition which, in his opening lines, he pronounces truly
*' rare and memorable." He doe> not attribute any premeditated
treachery to the Duke, but rather a stern resolve on speedy
revenge, when aware that his captains meant to betray him on
account of the departure of the F'rench lances. He describes the
exceeding caution shown by him in concealing from the Orsini
and Vitelli the amount (jf the forces still at his disposal, making
them pass for fewer than tliey were. And with equal admiration,
Machiavelli minutely describes the orders given for dividing the
whole army into ^niall corps, and then marching them altogether
upon Sinigaglia, so as to arrive there unexpectedly with an
overwhelming force, while the enemy's troops were dispersed at

' " lA-llerc (li Picro Ardinj^helli,'' as bcfurc (juolcd.

^ LctUr of ilit» 8th f>r Innunry, 150;. ^ Ldter of the lOlh of Janiian'.

THE MISSION TO VALENTINOIS IN ROMAGNA, 325

¥

a distance from the city, and could not disobey him^ without
prematurely reveahng their treachery. But just as we are at the
point of the ^wXxy into Sinigaglla we come to the end of this v
fragment/ in which the writer, while endeavouring to remain '
faithful to historic truth| seems almost to ha%^e persuaded himself
that he was depicting a hero ; indeed some reproofs to that effect
had already reached him from Florence, as we learn by Buonac-
corsi's letters.^

Machiavelli was still at Castello della Pieve on the i8th of
January, when the Duke, having received the long-expected news
that the Pope had imprisoned Cardinal Orsini and the others in
Rome, strangled Paolo and the Duke of Gravina Orsini, whom he
had brought with him under strong escort from Sinigaglia. The
Duke then continued to lay waste the Siennese territory, and
threatened to attack the city itself if Petrucci were not im-
mediately expelled, but was appeased when the latter begged
to be allowed to depart with a safe-conduct, for the French
forbade any attack upon Sienna, and the Pope had summoned him
suddenly to Rome. But although he granted Petrucci a safe-
conduct and a letter recommending him to the care of the
Lucchesi^ this did not prevent him from despatching fifty armed
men on his track with orders to capture him dead or alive. And
tRilyon this occasion the tVTant of Sienna had a miraculous escape
from death. He had left his city on thb 2Sth of January, and
accompanied by Giavan Paolo Baglioni taken flight towards Lucca
with headlong speed, for although ignorant that he was pursued,
no one put any trust in the promises of a Borgia. The assassins
were on the point of overtaking him, when they were arrested by
the Florentine commissar}.^ who, as the war between Florence
and Pisa was still going on, would not allow armed men to rove
freely about the field of war. Being ignorant of what had passed,
he kept them prisoners till he could receive instrvictions from
Florence. This gave the fugitives time to escape from the
poisoned claws of the Duke. The latter was now obliged to
hurry to Rome where his presence was anxiously desired by the

* Carte del Machmvelli," case I, No. 19, autograph. This fragnicnl was
published in the '* Opere *' (P. M.}, vol. iv. p. 254. Pit^iserini asserts that it was
written on the jtst of Dcccinljcr, 1502 ; but \\ mentions the arrival of the new

E, who was still being waited for on the ijih of January, 1503.
:orsi often tells him that he is accused of loo much admiration for

326

MACHIAVELLI'S LIFE AND TIMES.

Pope, who felt by no means secure with the Campagxia full of
armed men hostile to his authority. On the other hand France

had again issued a severe prohibition of all farther conquests.

While in Romagna and Central Italy we behold the Duke, and
have Niccolo Machiavelli to give us so graphic a picture of all that
occurred there ; in Rome we may look upon the equally tragic
reverse of the medal. Here we see the Pope possessed of far l^
self-control than his son^ confronted by Antonio Giusttnian, who
without having the genius or culture of Machiavelli, had much
greater influence, larger experience of the world, and extraordinary
knowledge of mankind, and who, as Venetian ambassador, had
many means lacking to the Florenthie secretar)% of penetrating
to the root of affairs. From the 6th of August he had written to
the Doge, that Vitellozzo was *' fighting shy" of the Duke, and
that he foresaw that both the latter and the Pope were decided to
" clip the wings '' of the Orsini. When the news of the rebellion
arrived, and then that of the defeat of Don Ugo and Don
Micheletto, the Pope broke out in expressions of mad rage against
the Orsini in Consistor)^% but immediately afterwards lowered
his tone, and showed himself almost humble and downcast. At
the first intelligence of French encouragement, his jo}- was so
overpowering that the Cardinals sneered among themselves at the
Holy Father^s want of self-command.^ Then began the prelimi-
naries towards a reconciliation, and the ambassador, without being
troubled by the doubts and uncertainties of the Florentine,
instantly noticed that they were being carried on so as to omit
powerful personages who might afterwards prove obstades to
any violation of the terms or any sanguinary solution.* Mean-
while no time was lost. The Pope acknowledged having sent the
Duke within a few days the sum of 36,000 ducat s.^ He collected
artillt-ry, made warlike preparations as though the enemies were
thundering at the gates, and took money ** as much from friends
as from enemies^ not caring whether from Orsini or Colon nesi,
and behaves like a drowning man clutching ht^d of straws," ♦

Without at all endeavouring to discover the principles of a new
science of politics, Giustinian was no less intent than Machiavelli
on giving a graphic picture of all that he beheld ; and from the
early part of November, obscr\'ing that the monstrous ill faith

* Gmstmian» despaiches of the ist, 7th, and 18th of October, 1501.

' Despatch of the 22nil of October. ' Despatch of the 23rd of October.

^ Detipalch of ihc 24lh of October.

^

PAPAL DOINGS IN POME

327

with which the negotiations were pursued, was evident from the
Pope's own words, he transcribed these to the Doge de verba ad
verhum^ adding : *^ And were it possible^ I would fain paint the
thing before your eyes^ for often the manner of speech teaches men
more of the intrinsic meaning than the words themselves ; " and
every one is persuaded that this is a mock reconciliation.' In fact,
on reading over the names of the Oraini who had signed it, the
Pope said^ laughing, to the Venetian ambassador, " Does it not
seem to you that this is a company of scoundrels and bankrupts ?
Do you not see by the terms, how fearful they are, and how they
confess themselves traitors, not excepting the Cardinal himself,
who feigns to be our friend, and yet insists on the condition of
only staying in Rome when it may suit him to do so ? ^' And
Giustinian then remarked that, *' The Orsini might be very sure
that they had now cut their own throats/' * In fact, they showed
incomprehensible bhndness, especially the Cardinal, who was
always in attendance on the Pope^ as though he wished to fall into
the trap of his own accord.

Alexander's endeavours to gain the friendship of the Venetian
Republic coincided with his belief in the near approach and
certainty of the Duke's new triumphs in Romagna, He called
the ambassador aside, and with his arms crossed and pressed to
his breast, deplored to him that the jealousy of Italian potentates
should have delivered the land into the hands of foreigners who
had their mouths open to swallow it. ** So far our only safety has
lain in the jealousy between France and Spain, otherwise we
should already be ruined. But do not fancy that you (Venetians)
are the children of the white goose (privileged people). Your
turn would have come also. We are old, and must think of
our posterity , wherefore our only hope is in your Serenisshna
Rifttbiica^ which is everlasting. For the love of God, let us unite
together to provide for the salvation of Italy. Do you know
what is said of you } That you try to be over wise. Be content
with being wise enough. And in saying these things (adds the
ambassador) his breast seemed as though it would burst, and as
though the words came from his heart instead of his mouth.'' ^

* Giu&linlan, despatch of the 4 ih of Noveml>er.

* The original expression ixi Venetian dialect is: 'Mbat the Orsini had taken
iosse^ a (trmcm^ /.r-., poison thai would act in a given time. Giustiniani
despatch of the 6i:h of November^ and note to p. 195 of vol, 1.

3 Giustinian, despatches of the 7th and isth of November, and 2nd of
December, 1502,

328 MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

But who could put faith in the Borgia ? Therefore he said vtry
few words in reply to the Pope ; ** and so/um I thanked his
Holiness for his good intentions towards your Most Excellent
Lordship/^ Besides even Venice was not capable at that period of
pursuing a really national policy, nor of profiting by the just
notions, such as were now in his own interest and for badly dis-
guised ends expressed by the Pope^ while ready the following day
to act in direct contradiction of all that he so passionately urged.

On the 24th of November, while Machiavelli in Romag^na was
still in the dark respecting the Duke^s designs and torturing his
wits to divine them, Giustinian wrote from Rome : *^ The first
blow will bu struck at Sinigaglia to prevent the Prefettessa from
helping the Duke of Urbino, whom the Pope madly desires to get
into his hands/* ' The latter was continually collecting money for
his son, wh^) spent about icxx) ducat:i a day* besides all that he
got by robbery and pillage. So extraordinary was his impatience
for news of the Duke's progress that when the latter halted for
some time at Cesena, he repeatedly shouted, beside himself mth
vexation : ** We don't know what the de\41 he is staying there
for ; wc have written to him to make the best of this good time —
* al fio dc polta bastardu ! ' and such like oaths and words in
Spanish." > To distract his mind from these thoughts and the
public attention from his secret manceuvres, he got up popular
festivals and masquerades, which marched in procession through
the streets of Rome and became most indecent in front of the
windows, whence he looked down upon them, his old frame
shaking with libertine laughter.-* He passed his evenings in the
Vatican, often keeping up his *' customary diversions/^ till dawn,
for certain fair ladies never failed him, and indeed, " without
them there was no feast worth having j '' and also hundreds of
ducats were staked at his Holiness^s gambling tables. In these
amusements the Cardinal Orsini often shared, to the astonish-
ment of the whole Court, who could not understand why he
should so weakly ** entangle himself in the net'' of his own accord.*

* Giustinian, despatch of the 15th of Novcmlicr, 1502* h is the second written
on that day, and is marked No, i6£f,

* Despatch of the 17th of Deceml>er. ^ Despatch cif the 23rd of December,

* Burchattl speaks in his '* Diario " (isth November) of a masquerade of thirty
persons in ihc Viazt:i of St. Peter habcnUs nasos longos tt grosses in /srtnam
priapomm iive membr&ntm viriHum^ in magna quant itate^ prtcedtnit pttl^im
cardinalitri. The Pope looked on at his window.

5 Despatch of the joih of December.

PAPAL DOINGS IN ROME.

529

On the 31st of December the Pope wandered about the halls of
the V^atican, saying that he could not imagine what the Duke
was doing spending a thousand ducatt^ a-day for nothing ; but
then» unable to restrain his good humour^ would laughingly add :
^* He always wants to do something fresh, his mind is too great,"
And the cardinals begged him to be easy, for the Duke knew how
to turn his money to accounts ^' We are all awaiting hi^; return
to get up a fine carnivaL We know well, we know well,'* said the
Pope^ still laughing, ** that you all think of nothing else.-* This
w*as the very day upon which Niccolu MachiavelH announced the
capture of Sinigaglia and of the Duke's enemies. After mass the
following day, the Holy Father summoned the ambassadors there
present, and told them the great news, affecting to have been
surprised by it ; and he added that the Duke never forgave any who
had injured him, and did not leav^e his vengeance to others, and
he threatened those who had offended him, especially Ohverotto,
** whom the Duke had sworn to hang with his own hands/* The
cardinals stood round him and tickled his ears * '* with their various
congratulations, while he freely descanted on the virtues and
magnanimity of the Duke." Then they glanced at each other,
and shrugging their shoulders^ began to speculate upon what
would happen next.^

In fact, on the 3rd of January. 7503, the Pope having received
the positive intelligence — still unknown to the rest of the
world — of the strangling of Oliver otto and Vitellozzo, called
Cardinal Orsini in great haste to the Vatican. The victim pre-
sented himself with the Governor and Jacopo da Santa Croce,
who, it seems, had received orders to accompany him, although
pretending to do so by chance. As soon as the Cardinal
arrived he was seized and — as all had foreseen — thrown into the
castle of St, Angelo, never to leave it alive. His house was
immediately stripped, and his mother and two young maidens
who were with her were driven forth and allowed to take nothing
but the clothes they wore at the time. These poor women
wandered about Rome without finding any one to give them
shelter, for all were trembling for their own safety. Numerous
other arrests speedily followed. The auditor of the Chamber,
bishop of Cesena, was torn from his bed, while suffering from

'An expression tistfd by Giustinian to signify that they praised and Battered
Mm.
' Giustinian, despatch of the 1st of January, 1503.

330

MACHIAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES.

fever, and his house pillaged ; the same fate befell the Protonotaiy
Andrea de Sfiin/tdus^* and many others besides. Whoever had
money trembled for his life, for now ** the Pontiff seems to think
of nothing but obtaining gold, and says that what he has already
done, is nothing to that which he shall do," = Even the Medici
in Rome were terror-stricken ; the bishop of Chiusi died of fear,
and so many took flight that the Pope thought it necessarj* to
summon the Conscrv^ators of the city^ to inform them that, all
guilty persons having now been seized, the others might set about
preparing a grand carnival. 3 And he himself^ while continuing
his work of extermination, passed the months of January and
February in carnival pleasures. The Venetian ambassador, going
to confer with him upon business, found him laughing in the
balcony, watching the tricks of the masks beneath his windows ;♦
and afterwards being invited to a supper party, found the Pope —
who had passed the day attending races — enjo)ing the per-
formance of plays, for which he had always much liking, in the
midst of his cardinals, ** some in their cardinafs dress^ and a few
in masquerade, together with sev^eral companions of the kind most
pleasing to the Pontiff, some of whom lay stretched at his Holi-
ness's feet.** 5

On the day succeeding this festival, Cardinal Orsini expired in
the prison of St. Angelo — by poison — as all men said. In vain
his fellow cardinals had petitioned for his life, in vain had his
relations offered 2 5,000 ducats as its ransom. His mother after being
at first allowed to send food to her son, and then forbidden to
do so, sent a woman beloved of the Cardinal to the Pope, to offer
him a large pearl that he was known to cov^ct. He accepted the
pearl, but did not grant the pardon. However at that period
the Cardinal was showing " signs of frenzy/* and according to
the ** general opinion had already drunk of the cup poisoned for
him by the Pope, who then ordered the physicians to give
him their best care.*' *^ The 15th, he was found, they said, in
high fever j the 22 nd he was dead ; the 24th they were called
on to depone that he had died a natural death. Then, by

' Giuslinian, despatch of ihe 5ih of January*, 1503, at 20 of the dock.

' Dtfspatch of the 6lh of lariLiary.

3 Despatch of the 8th of Janiinry, 19 of the clock,

* Despatch of tht- 7lh of January.
5 Despatch of the 8lh of January, hora 2 noctis.

* Dcs|iaich of the 2rst Fubntary; 1503.

PAPAL DOINGS IN I^OAfE,

35'

order of his Holiness, public obsequies were performed in his
honour/

The Duke was now expected. The Cardinal d'Este had fled
from Rome at this announcement j in terror of his life. Among
the thousand different rumours afloat ^ it was even said that he
loved Donua Sancia^ the Duke's sister-in-law and the Duke's
mistress,^

Such of the Orsini as had escaped slaughter, the Savelli^ and
the Colon na, had taken arms, and having entrenched themselves
at Ceri» Bracciano, and other points^ attacked the bridge of
Nomentano on the 23rd of January. And although they were
repulsed, the Pope had the palace placed in a state of defence ;
became maddened with rage and alarm ; went about shrieking
that he would root out the Orsini family, and begged his Duke
to come to him without loss of time. The latter was now on
the road, to the very last spreading devastation by the way. At
San Ouirico, finding that all the inhabitants had fled upon his
approach excepting two old men and nine old women, he had
them strung up hy their arms^ with a slow Are under their feet^
to make them reveal where treasure was hidden ; and, as they
could not tell him thts^ they had to die. He committed similar
atrocities at Montefiascone, Acquapendente, Viterboj SlcJ

Although everything gave way before him, and many of his
foes had retreated, yet Ccri and Bracciano held out against the
insufficient artillery of the Pope, whom the Duke did not dare
to assist openly, on account of the orders received from France^
to which however the Holy Father paid no attention. In this
way matters proceeded slowly, and on the 26th of February,
leaving the fifty armed men who had accompanied him in a neigh-
bouring villa, the Duke entered Rome with Cardinal Borgia^
Cardinal d^-Mibret and three servants, all masked. In the evening
he was present at the representation of one of the usual comedies
at the Vatican and retained his disguise, although recognized by
every one.-*

Machiavelli meanwhile, his imagination fired, his mind full of

* Despatches of 22nd, 2jrd, and 24lh Februarj\

' ** Quia idem Cardinalibus diligebat ct cogncscchat prindpissam, uxorem fmtris
dicli Duds, quam et Ipse Dux cognusccbat carnaliiei." Burchardi, ns quotetJ by
Grcgorovius, '* Geschkhte," iS:c., vol, vii, p. 486, note 4.

3 This is the account given by Burcbardi in his ** Diary," at the date of the 23rd
January, 1503.

* Giustinian, despatches of the 26lb and 27th of Februaiy.

332 MACHIAVELLPS LIFE AND TIMES.

all he had seen and heard of the Duke Caesar and the Borgia
in general, had returned to his Florence chancery, where he con-
tinued to read and write letters relating to those personages.
... But any one inclined to think him thoroughly deceived in his
judgment of the true character of the Pope and the Pope's son,
need only look through the first " Legazione " to Rome and the
first ** Decennale," to be convinced of the contrary. In the latter
he styles the Duke "a man without compassion, rebellious to
Christ, the Hydra, the basilisk, deserving of the most wretched
end, and speaks of the Pope in almost identical terms." *

Yet, as we have related, it was in associating .with Valentinois,
that his mind first conceived and shaped out the idea — which was
henceforth to occupy his whole life — of a science of Statecraft
separate from, and independent of, every moral consideration. In
such separation he saw the sole means of clearly formulating this
science, and founding it on a new basis. He was going through
a process of thought almost resembling that of a man attempt-
ing for the first time to investigate the laws of the rise and
decline of the wealth of nations, and studying the economic
problem no less in the merchant, manufacturer, or agriculturist
who are producers, than in the soldier who is a pillager, or
the brigand and pirate who are robbers. It was from this
more or less abstract and forced separation of a single social
phenomenon from all the rest, that political economy in fact
arose, and to this the rapidity of its growth was due as well as
some of the errors which it afterwards tried to eliminate.
Machiavelli, in studying the actions of Caesar Borgia made a

* When the Duke hoodwinks the Orsini, he calls him the basilisk ; when the
Duke goes towards Perugia, he calls him the hydra; when the Duke hopes in
Julius II., he remarks : —

" E quel Duca in altrui trovar credette
Quclla picta che non conobbe mai."

When the Duke is treacherously seized, and imprisoned by Consalvo di Cordo\-a,
Machiavelli says : —

" gli pose la soma
Che meritava un ribellante a Cristo."

And lastly, after narrating the death of Alexander VI., he adds :—

** Del qual seguirno le sante pedate
Tre sue familiari e care ancelle,
Lussuria, Simonia e Crudeltate."

We shall see what he says later in the first *' Legazione '* to Rome.

If/S DE^CRIFTION OF EVENTS IN EOMAGNJ, u^

^distinction of somewhat the same nature, for this distinction
appeared to him in the light of a leal fact rather than as an
hypothesis or abstraction » At that time he only succeeded in
formulating a few general maxims^ without rising to a theoretic
conception of principles, neither had he sufficient grasp of his
method to attempt to enrol his principles in a body of doctrines.
Almost unconsciously^ his ideas assumed the form of an ideal
personage, representing the acute, able^ and audacious statesman
restrained by no scruples of conscience, no moral influence, from
trying to achieve his fixed purpose^no matter what obstacles stood
in the path, no matter what acts of treachery and bloodshed had
to be performed. In short, in examining the actions of V'alen-
tinois, his mind had created an imaginary Valentiuois, to which
later he continually recurred. It is the weli-known figure so
often making its appearance amid the maxims of the ^^ Discorsi **
and the '* Principe," as though to recall their primary origin, and
to once more testify that the author had laid the foundations
of his policy solely in the realities of life, without going back to
the Supreme good, or running aground on any metaphysical
abstraction. At a later period he obeyed a similar impulse in
writing his ^* Vita di Castruccio Castracani," which, as all know, is
no history^ but rather an effort to glean from history his own

»litical ideaU This explains to us the great praise coupled with
re blame accorded by him to Valentino is. His praise is
generally bestowed on the ideal personage, his blame on the
historical. The one however is not so different from the other as
to pre\*ent us from sometimes confusing them, especially as the
author himself occasionally does so, when carried away by his
imagination, which seems especially to dominate him when he is
apparently reasoning in cold blood. Nor is it an uncommon case
to find that men of the most reflective and cautious temperament
may at times fall a sudden and complete prey to their own
imaginations.

But at this period of his life, whatever the state of his mind and
ideas may have been, Machiavelli had no time for scientific medi-
tations, nor for the composition of elaborate works. He therefore
contented himself with writing a brief narrative of all that he had
witnessed in Romagna, not for the purpose of giving exact
historic details — for those existed in the numerous despatches of
the Legation, in spite of several having been lost — but rather
to establish more clearly the prudence and, in his opinion, the

534

MACHIAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES,

marvellous talent of the Duke. And he composed the well-known
** Descrizione,/' ■ in which the Duke's crafty fashion of killing his
enemies is painted in the manner most suitable to the object
that the author had in view. Otherwise it would be impossible to
account for the diverse manner in which MachiavelH now narrates
the very facts which he had described in the ** Legazione/' at the
time when he was upon the i^pot, and it was his duty to supply
the Ten with correct information.

The ^* Dcscrizione *^ begins with a picture of the Duke on his
return from Lombardy^ whither he had gone to exculpate himself
to the King of France ^* from the many calumnies concerning him
spread by the Florentines in consequence of the Arezxo rebellion,*'
This is positively untrue^ since the Florentines had not calum-
niated him, and this should in any case suffice to change the
opinion of all those who considered the *^ Descrizione ** to be no
more than one of Machiavelli*s usual letters. Certainly the
secretary could not have spoken to the Ten or the Signoria of
the cainmmvs of the Florentines. In continuation he gives a
very brief account of the conspiracy at *^ La Magione/' and the
reconciliation afterwards concluded betw*een the rebels and the
Duke, whose astuteness he brings out in high relief. In tliis
work the Duke is made to leave Imola when ** November is going
out/' and in the *' Legazione " on the loth of December ; he sets
forth from Cesena ** about the middle of December," whereas in
the "Legazione" he w^as still ** about to start'' on the 26th of
December.

The ** Descrizione '^ then goes on to relate how, after the taking
of Sinigaglia by the Vitclli and Orsini, the fortress refused to
surrender, the governor having declared that he would yield it to
none ** but the Duke in person,'' who, on that accx>unt, was
invited to come* And, obi^erves Machiavelli, he considered the
occasion a good one and unlikely to arouse suspicion, and to give
a still better colour to the affair, dismissed the French.^ In the
** Legazione," on the contrary, he had said — what too is clearly
proved by all contemporary historians and ambassadors — that the
French suddenly went away on the 22 nd of December, because

' ** Descrizione del mrxlo temilo dal Duca Valentino ncllo ammaziare ViteHoao
Vilelli, OlivemUo da Fcrmo, il Signor Fagolo c il tluca di Gravina Orsini/'

^ All the editions say— **a«</ fcr grtaier security ^ lie dismissed the French
soIdier>' ; " but the original autograph preserved in the Florence Arcliives (Carle
Strozyiane» file 139, i»heet<5 2oS and fol.) says— *"^ /rr //« assiatrar^it,** t.e,^ io
better deceive the cunspirators.

HIS DESCRIPTION OF E VENTS IN EOMAGNA. 335

they had been recalled without any reasons being given, and
certainly much to the Duke's peril and chagrin.* Indeed, on the
20th of December Machia%^elli wrote that this matter ** had turned
this Court's brains topisy-turvy/' and on the 23rd, that thus the
Duke " had lost more than half his strength and two-thirds
of his reputation.-' Now in the '' Descrizione " all this is changed
into a stroke of cunning on the part of the Duke. Even the road
from Fano to Sinigaglia is here described very differently from
the minute description given in the fragment remaining to us
of thir letter from which we quote, and which gives a summary of
recent events.

And to the end the *' Descrizione " goes on in the same strain
The Duke communicates his design to eight of his trusty ad-
herents, some of whose names are even given, yet in the
** Legazionc ■' there is no mention of anything of the sort. There
is also a very different account of the seizure of the four captains,
and the dying utterances of Oliver otto and Vitellozzo are given
im, although of such words none can confirm nor deny
storic truth, the author having made no mention of them

?^1iere, nor it being at all likely that he had any certain
knowledge of tlieni- How can patent contradictions such as these
be accounted for, without admitting that this " Descrizione *' is
something different from exact history ? The Duke^ whom
Machiavelli here depicts as calumniated by the Florentines^ and
far more able and acute than the personage described in the
** Legazione/' is in fact the precursor of his " Principe," in which
e shall behold later, put in a theoretic form, that which we now

e only in an individual and concrete shape. The scientific con-
ception, though not as yet very clear, is however already contained
in the ideal personage evoked before us.

' * On the 28th Bccembtfr, 1502, the Ten wrote lo the Commissary Giovanni
Ridolfi, in consequence of news received from Machiavelli and others, that ihcy
could not understand the cause of this sudden withdrawal, no danger having arisen
in L*ombaidy» '* WTicnce it may be concluded that it has been in order to check
is siniitter career and all these designs of aggrandisement." At all events it was
certainly no trick of the Duke. Archivio Florentino, cL x. dist* 3> No. 104,
sheet 59. See also A, Giustinian» ** Dispacci," vol. i. p. 293, and document iii.
at ihe end of that volume.

CHAPTER VI.

Necessity for new taxes — "Dicorso suUa provvisione del denaro" — Defensive
measures against the Borgia — War with Pisa — New misdeeds of the Pope-
Predominance of the Spaniards in the Neapolitan kingdom — Death of
Alexander VI. — Election of Pius III. and of Julius II.

(1503.)

^HE Florentines were now in great straits from
the difficulty of finding the funds urgently
required for hiring fresh troops : since not only
were they threatened by the Borgia on the one
hand, and the Pisans on the other, but a new
French array was on the march towards Naples,
and all dreaded the complications and dangers
of which this might prove the source. Yet this was the moment
at which the Gonfaloniere Soderini, whose rule hitherto had been
very popular, for the first time encountered the strong opposition
of the citizens. Seven different proposals were brought before the
Great Council during February and March, for the purpose of
obtaining the necessary funds, but none could be carried. Xor
was it easy to decide what measures to adopt, for were a heavy
ta.x proposed, it could not be accepted by a people already so
overburdened, while a slight one would fail in its object.
Besides, there were additional motives of discontent to increase
the present opposition. The wealthier citizens had not only paid
the usual imposts, but had been obliged to lend very considerable
sums of money to the Commune, which was therefore their debtor
to the extent of four hundred thousand florins, eighteen thousand
of which were due to Soderini and his nephews. Accordingly, the
rich declined to hear of any special measures, but demanded a
general tax of the usual kind, which, weighing equally upon all,
might enable the Republic to pay at least a portion of her debt

THE NEED FOR FRESH TAXES.

337

to those upon whom she had pressed most heavily. In fact^ the
variotis proposals supported by the Gonfalon iere had been drawn
up in conformity with this rule, but all these were rejected by the
Council, where the majority, composed of poorer men, complained
that Soderini^ the people's choice, showed undue favour to the
powerful. He sought, they added^ to regain the sums which
he had lent to the State, although in receipt of so generous a
stipend. Then, too, there were the outcries of those who were
impoverished by the numerous economies introduced into the new
administration ; and there was even much grumbling^ because the
Gonfalon iere *s wife, one of the Malaspini family, '^very handsome,
though middle-aged, and a good woman of royal manners," to use
Cerretani's expression, had in these days taken up her abode in
the palace, so that ladies were continually seen going up and down
its stairs, an unheard-of thing in Florence.

As the natural consequence of all this, the credit of the
Republic, which had rapidly increased through the election of the
new Gonfaloniere, and the regularity of his administration, now
sank with equal rapidity, and the shares of the Monte Comune
and the Monte delle Fanciulle * were negotiated in the market
at the same low figure as before. Accordingly Soderini, being
w^eary of temporizing measures, assembled the Great Counci! and
made a notable speech, in which, after dwelling on the dangers
now imminent, he charged the citizens themselves to determine
the nature of the new tax in any way that pleased them, provided
it fulfilled the object of furnishing the requisite funds for the
preservation and defence of the Republic. So finally a decima —
or tithe — was voted on all landed property, including that of the
Church, if permission could be obtained from Rome ; and even
a small ^^ar hi trio " was agreed upon. This so-called arbitrin was
a tax upon professions, and probably derived its name from the
fact of being imposed without any fixed rules, especially in the
present emergency, when it was left entirely to the discretion of
the magistrates. Matters then speedily returned to their normal
condition, all difficulties having been overcome far more easily
than was anticipated.^

I

Monte Comune— the Public Debt— Monte delle Fatidulle — a Slate Insurance
iflice, which gave marriage portions lo girls in return for small yearly payments.

' Parcntit **Slorie Fiorentine/* MS. in the Florence Nalioaal Library, CI. u-
cod. 133, vol. V. at sheet 87 and (oh

vou I. 33

J38 MA CHI A VELLrS LIFE AND TIMES.

Machiavelli now applied himself to the composition of a
discourse, that^ in his opinion, should have been made upon
the occasion. We cannot ascertain whether it was T^T*itten by
command of Soderini, or was veritably the speech read or recited
by the latter in the Council It w^as certainly composed as
though destined for that purpose. Written in a way to allow
of certain points being more freely developed in delivery, it has
singular strength and concision of style, and contains many of
those maxims, general reflections, and historical reminiscences,
which wxre still, as it were, floating in the secretary's mind, and,
if not as yet thoroughly arranged, were alw^ays expressed with
incomparable lucidity/

He begins by remarking that all States find it necessary to unite
strength with prudence. The Florentines had testified theii
prudence by giving unity and a head to the government ; but
they failed in their duty, in refusing to furnish supplies, when,

* " Parole da dirle soprA la provvisione del diinaio, fatt^ prima uo poco di
proeniio e di scusa." Il was first publishetl in the Florence ** Antologia" (July,
1822, vol. vii. pp. 3-10), frnni one of Machiavelll's autograph manuscripts ; it was
afterwards reprinted in Milan by the Rusconi Press, 1S23. in the " Operc Minori'*
of Machiavelli ; Florence, Le Monnier, 1852^ and the more recent but little known
edition of the entire works, ivsued in Florence by A. Usigli, 1857. Some believed
il to have been recited by Machiavelli himself in the Great Council ; but he, as
a salaried official of the Govemmcnt, had no power either to vote or join in ihe
discussion, nor could any citizrn, wilh the solitary exception of the Gonfaloniere,
have held the Language contained in this di&course. In thctireat Council members
cither voted lor the government proposals* or spoke in favour of them, previous
to voting* ^t embers did not, hov^ever, vote in iheir own name5, but in that of
the different benches {/ant aft) into which the ciliicns divided in order to consult
on the decision In l>e taken ; and all this with infinite care and precauLion.
Parenli tells us of a certain individual who, on this very occasion, was subjected
to i m prison in ent and then nxWc, for having spoken too violently against past taxes.
(See too my '*Slorta di (jirolamo Savonarola," Book IL chap, v., in which I
have given a minute description of the mode of procedure then in force in the
Council.) In the **?raliche*' (answering to the Committees of the English
Parliament), which were less public, greater freedom of language was employed |
but setting aside the improbability of Machiavelli taking part in these ** Pratichc,"
the ** Discorse " here in question is addressed to the citizens in general, and has
the gravity of tone suitable to a large assembly. And still less can we admit the
other hypothesis of^its having been addressed to the Dieci di Balla, who were
Machiavelli's sy|jeriors. It is written for delivery in the Great Council, where
Soderini alone could hold similar language. In fact* Parenti tells us that the
Gonfalonicre made a great speech then, and certainly Machiavelli composed
it on this occasion, cither by command* or as a literary exercise, Guicciardini
has left us many discourses of the same description which are simply exercises in
composition.

DISCOURSE ON '' FROVVISIONE DEL DENARO:' 359

but a few months before^ they had been on the verge of total
destruction at the hands of Valentinois. Nor did it avail them
to say that the Duke had now no pretext for attacking them,
because all are to be considered as enemies who can deprive us
of our own, without our being able to defend ourselves. ** And
at present you are incapable of defending your subjects, and
you stand between two or three cities, desiring your ruin rather
than your preservation. And looking beyond Tuscany, you will
see that all Italy is subject to the Venetians, or to the Pope,
or the King of France. The former hate you, and seek to
extort money from you for the purpose of attacking you ; it
were better you should spend it in making war upon them. All
know what small confidence may be placed in the Pope and the
Duke, with whom it has been impossible as yet to conclude any
alliance ; and even did you succeed in forming one, I repeat that
these latter will only be your friends, while unable to attack
you, for whereas laws, agreements, and contracts bind private
individuals to keep faith, arms alone avail with potentates.
Regarding the King of France, it is necessary that some one
should tell you the truth, and I will be that person. Either he
will find you the only obstacle to his designs upon Italy, in which
case you are lost^ or he will find an obstacle in others, and then
your salvation will depend upon your making yourselves respected
in such wise that none may dare to leave you at his mercy, and
that he may not dare to set you aside among those of no account.
Remember, at all events, that one cannot always use another's
sword, and therefore it were well to keep your own in readiness
and girded on, even when the enemy be far off. Many of you
might remember that when Constantinople was about to be taken
by the Turk^, the Emperor foresaw the coming destruction, and
his own resources being insufficient to ward it off, he called the
citizens together, and explained to them their danger and the
remedies required. They all laughed him to scorn. *■ The siege
tfvok place. The very citizens who had jeered at the forebodings
of their master, no sooner heard the cannon thundering against
the walls and the shouts of the enemies^ host, than they ran
weeping to the Emperor with heaps of gold ; but he drove them
all away, saying — *go, die with your gold, since ye would not
live without it. . . , If, however, others learn wisdom from their
neighbours' perils, you do not learn it even from your own. . . ,
For I tell you that fortune will not help those who will not help

34©

MACHiAVELU'S LIFE AND TIMES,

themselves ; nor will heaven itself sustain a thing that is deter-
mined to fall. But beholding you free Florentines, with your
liberty in your own hands, I will not believe that you desire to
fail. For surely I must belieVe that men born free, and wishing
to remain free, will have due respect for liberty ! * ^'

Here we must call attention to the tendency, more and more
observable in Machiavelli, to build up maxims of general policy,
even in speaking of so simple a matter as the suggestion of a
new tax.

Meanwhile the negotiations set on foot by the Borgia towards
an alliance with the Florentines, still dragged on without hope
of any definite result, for now the latter did nothing without the
consent of France, who at this period was alienated from the
Pope on account of the favour shown by him to the Spaniards^
France was endeavouring to arrange a league between Sienna,
Florence, Lucca and Bologna, of which, so far, the only effect had
been to assist the return of Petrucci to Sienna, Thither in April
the Florentines despatched Machiavelli to communicate to Petrucci
the Pope'f. wishes and designs ; and this was done rather in
proof of friendship, than from any hope or desire of arriv^ing at a
practical conclusion,* As soon as the necessary supplies were
voted, they gave serious attention to preparations of defence
against any sudden attack from the Borgia, and Machiavelli again
returned to his desk to write letters. He advised one commissary
to keep an eye upon the enemy, another to provision the fortress^
a third was severely reproved for negligence and laziness. In
May he gave notice that Valentinois was disbanding his troops^
who might possibly hazard some coup de main on their own
account, or even at tempts under like false pretences — to do good
service to the Duke, whose soldiers were near Perugia, and
threatening the con lines. " Wherefore, although the prohibition
of France prevents our believing an attack possible, nor allows us
the faintest suspicion that His Majesty would consent to one, still
we must not slumber, but be as much upon the alert as though we
expected one, seeing the way in which things now go on, almost
always turning out as no one could have imagined. The more
then you see affairs darkening, and know them to be mena-
cing, so much the more does it behove you to keep yt^ur eyes
open ! " »

* See the C^OTwii^itfw^ entrusted lo him by the Ten, **Opcre»** vol. vi. p. a6i,

• L&€. ci(,^ at sheet i6j.

PRECAUTIONARY MEASURES.

i4r

^

It is true, the Ten had little fear of open attack^ but they
dreaded thefts, rapine^ pillage, and incitements to rebellion, in
some parts of their territory, since the responsibility of such deeds
could be easily disavowed. '* If our fears of open attack are as
of twelve soMi in the h'ra^ our fears of robbery are as of eighteen
to twenty.*' ' It may have been that the sole object of all these
threatening signs, was to prevent the usual raids on the Pisans,
by diverting elsewhere the strength and vigilance of the Republic.
But, as regarded Pisa, Florence was determined to take advantage
of the favourable season.

In fact two commissaries of war had already been sent to the
camp, Antonio Giacomini — who filled the office of Captain with
ever * increasing zeal — and Tommaso Tosinghi. In April a
circular of the Ten decreed the enrolment within the territory
of several thousand pioneers and delvers to lay waste the country,
and in May, beams, mortars, carpenters, and so large a number
of foot soldiers, men-at-arms and foragers were made ready, that
the Pisans were alarmed and showed signs of wishing to come
to terms. But neither Giacomini nor Tosinghi were to be
deceived by their devices^ and declared that only deeds availed^
not words ; and for this they received much praise from the Ten,
in whose name Niccol5 Machiavelli addressed a letter to them on
the 22nd of May, exhorting them " to pursue the same course in
all your actions, ever flourishing the sword in one hand, and salve in
the other, so that they may know they have the option of choosing
which they wilL'^' And on the 23rd of this month 300 men-at-
arms, 200 light horse, 3000 infantry, and 2000 pioneers took the
field, and thanks to the energy of Giacomini, in two days did
such tremendous havoc in the valley of the Arno, that the Ten
were astounded as well as gratified, and wished the work of
devastation to be carried on into the Valley of the Serchio.^ In
writing all these letters Machiavelli did not always confine him*
self to transmitting superior orders ; but sometimes digressed
into advice, directions, suggestions^ entering into the minutest
particulars, as though he were a military leader upon the spot,

» The Lira being of 20 soldi, the first chance was as of 12 to 20, the second
of 18 lo 20, Letter of the 14th of May, 1503, cL x. dist. 3» No. 103, at sheet 173.
Sec the Appendix* documeTit vi. Files 103 and 104 contain numerous other
letters by Machiavelli on the same argiiment-
, * Archives Fiorentino, cL x. diet 3, No. 108, at sheet 7/.

3 Letter of the 25th of May, IS03» in the Florence Archives, cL x. disl. 3,
No. loS, at sheet i%»

342 MACHIAVELLrS LIFE AND TIMES,

while all the time repeating that he left everything to the com-
missaries and captains.*

By the first week in June the Valley of the Serchio had been
entirely laid waste, and the army had been joined by the Baily
of Caen, who though bringing with him little else than the
French flag and a few men-at-arms, immediately began the usual
complaints, the usual pretensions. Yet his presence and that of
his followers, though almost ineffectual either for good or evil,
depressed the courage of the Pisans and raised that of the Floren-
tines, who soon captured Vico Pisano and La Verruca, much to
the content of the Ten,' and on the i8th of June they ordered
ah attack upon Librafatta and Torre di Foce.3 But news of the
Fi^ench advance towards Naples under La Tremoille, brought all
these operations to a standstill, since it was now necessary to
keep the army in readiness for any unforeseen emergency ; and
therefore orders were issued only to take Torre di Foce, " so as
to deprive the Pisans of that refuge, and prevent them from
rebuilding a nest there/* < After this the war was suspended in
that quarter, and Giacomini was recalled to be sent to guard the
frontiers.

In the kingdom of Naples matters had taken a most dis-
couraging turn for France, whom the Borgia accordingly now
began to hold in slight account ; and the Florentines felt less
assured of safety than ever. Some of Caesar's men were already
scouring the Siennese territory, a matter which gave great anxiety
to the Commissary Giovanni Ridolfi, so that in a letter of the
4th of August, Machiavelli sought to encourage him, saying :
Gaeta has not yet received the sacrament in extremis as you
suppose ; the Spaniards arc beginning to retreat, the French are
advancing. And you also err in thinking that their army remains
in Lombardy, through fear of the Venetians ; " who are no firmer
in their stirrups, than they have been all this year, nor do we
hear that they have changed a single horse, nor moved a single
man-at-arms, so that — to return to the point — we cjo not perceive
. how the Duke in this state of affairs, could be likely to begin a

^ See letter of the 27th May in Appendix, document vii. cl. x. dist. 3, No.
- 107, at sheet 24.

" Letter of the 14th of June, cl. x. dist. 5, No. 107, at sheet 47/.
3 Cl. X. dist. 3, No. 108, at sheet 54.

* Letter of the 22nd of June, 1503, Florence Archives, cl. x. dist. 3, No. 108,
at sheet 58.

FRESH MISDEEDS OF THE POPE.

343

p

I

war and openly disturb the affairs of Tuscany, *iince with the
half of the favours at our command, we should have a thousand
ways of burning his house about his ears/' ^ But notwithstanding
these encouraging words^ orders were given to prepare for defence,
and two hundred and fifty French lancers were despatched. The
greater part of the year passed amid these uncertainties, and then
fresh events in Rome changed the entire aspect of Italian politics.

In that city, after Cen had at last been captured by the Duke's
adherents, some dissension seemed to have arisen between him
and the Pope, Ccesar being reluctant— from respect to France
—to proceed energetically against Bracciano and the Orsini^
whereupon the latter became so enraged as to threaten his son
with excommunication, and it was even rumoured that onie
evening they had come to blows.- However, in the opinion of
the Venetian ambassador^ all this was a mere farce. In the actual
uncertainty as to pending events in Naples, the Pope showed a
leaning towards Spain^ the Duke towards France, and thus **each
blaming the other, both pursued their common designs." ^ Indeed
they had greater hopes than ever of carrying out their plans,
amid the inevitable coming confusion, and they left no means
unturned of collecting money. On the 29th of March the
Venetian ambassador wrote that a Bull had been issued, creating
eighty new oFRces in the Curia^ which were immediately sold at
seven hundred and sixty ducats apiece. '* If your Sublimity will
cast up the sum, you will see how much money the Pontiff has
gained/* + And in May he added that nine men of the worst
description had been made cardinals, on payment by each of a
round sum of money, and by some of more than 20,000 ducats,,
so that altogether between 120 and 130 thousand ducats had
been got together ; and Alexander had shown the world that
a Pope^5 revenues might be swelled ad hbitum^

All this did not suffice, and resort was had to other means. On
the night of the roth of April, Cardinal Michiel expired after two
days of violent sickness, and before dawn his house had been stripped
by the order of the Pope, who, according to Giustinian,^ obtained

^ Florence Archives* cl. x. dist. 3, No. 108, at she^i ill.
Giusliniani desi>atches of island aSlh of February, of 1st, 4lh, 8lhj and llth
arch J 1503,

3 Despalch 304, the first tialed 3rd of March. See also that of the igth of
March. * Despatch of the 29th of March,

* Despatch of the ji.si of May.
^ Gitistinian, despatch of the I3Lh of April, 1503.

344 MAC/riAVELirS LIFE AND TIMES.

more than 1 50,000 ducats in gold^ plate, and precious stufis. In
fact, on going to the Vatican the ambassador found all the doors
closed, and could not be received because the money was being
counted over. This was still going on in the hall to which he
was admitted on the morning of the 13th, on a summons from the
Pope. His Holiness said to him : ** See, there are only 23,832
ducats, yet all the land rings with the news that we have had
between 80 and 100,000 ducats in cash.^* And he appealed to the
testimony of those who were present, **as though/* observes the
ambassador, *